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iHobtlp, Alabama 


The object of THE SPRINQHILLIAN is to record College events, to stimulate literary endeavor among the 
students, and to form a closer bond between the Boys of the Present and the Past. 


QJmumrrrial |!riniutg (Eampattg 
Mobile, Ala. 

THE NEW YEAR (Rhapsody) William K. Microti, '10 "\ 

THE STORY THE SNOWFLAKES TOLD J oseph p. NeWsham> ; 2 2 

GLORIA IN EXCELSIS! (Poem) Thomas V. Hale, '/I 4 

Woodland Sketches 

TO THE OLD MILL Z^^'-EcrlEcst^ V I2 5 

THEF.RSTROB.N A. Vasquez, '12 5 

THE MOUNTAIN PINE j osepf , yy^^ ,, 2 fi 

THE REWARD OF CHARITY J ohn & Roche> 2 nd Acad. 7 

A CHRISTMAS CRADLE (Poem) . Rev. J. $ Tabb g 

A WEIRD EXPERIENCE John & Rives, '13 10 


S.DNEY LANIER (Biography) "_"_""" ''"^rge I Mayer, '12 1 2 


SUCCESS (Verse) ^_ lg 


A CHILD OF MERCY John McCarthy, '1 1 22 

WHERE POETS DREAM (Poem) James V.McIntyre, 'II 2 5 

THE POLAR EXPEDITIONS Hany J p,^ , /2 , 6 

RIP'S REAL AWAKENING . Thomas P. Hale, ' 1 1 3 2 


A VISITTO ROME \\\"""~^-aWer/'l3 41 



College Notes 


Alumni : 

In Memoriam (Poem) _ , g 


De Nativitate Christi 6l 

Athletics __ 6 




Digitized by the Internet Archive 

in 2012 with funding from 

LYRASIS Members and Sloan Foundation 

Old Series— Vol. xiil, No. I January, 1910 New Series— Vol. I., No. I 

She Stow 3mt 


TOittr sxrtotm stBp and tnnfftBtl drum, 

TtiB warriors aimB. 
Tteg bear i\[t rarsB 0f clriBfiain slain; 
TItb rank and fife tris funeral train- 

Wxr 30nnri 0f jtfg 

TItb wournBrs' Bars profane. 

TJtb riBari king's Jtag 

His sirB's statBlg throne 

Hb nrxm proclaims Iris onrn- 

o o o o o o 

I^oud sounds i\[t drum, tells ring: 
Tte king is riBad I I^oug lioB tte king ! " 
o o o o o o 

TItb old gBar is dging 
'fttid monrnBrs fBur; 
TItb nratclrBrs arB crging: 
u2 fUug ant tte old, ring in tte near!" 

TOm, %. Nirrosi, 'ID 


It was the night before Christmas, 
and as I sat in my favorite chair and 
faced the open hearth, my thoughts 
wandered back to boyhood days in 
Old Vermont. What pleasant mem- 
ories, they, of the bustle and excite- 
ment in preparing for the coming of 
Santa Claus ! How the fireplace was 
swept clean and new pine logs placed 
ready to burn. And how the stock- 
ings were hung all in a row. Five 
there were in those days, but now — 
Suddenly strange voices floated quiet- 
ly into the study. I glanced around 
quickly. I was alone in the room and 
yet — I arose and went to the window, 
for it was from there apparently the 
sound came ; I raised it and looked out. 
It had just begun to snow and a few 
flakes rested quietly on the window- 
sill. I was about to brush them off, 
when the same voices that had aroused 
me from my reverie, now struck my ear 
with remarkable clearness. Believe 
me, gentle reader, you cannot be more 
surprised than I was when I heard 
these very snowflakes conversing 
among themselves in voices that 
sounded as sweet and musical as the 
silver chimes of some fairy cathedral. 
They had been conversing for some 
time, but I will relate, as I heard it, the 
story the snowflakes told. 

"Can you tell me if Mr. Santa 
Claus lives here?" asked the little girl. 

The boy jumped to his feet and half 
asleep drawled out, "No ; what made 
you think he lived here?" 

"Well," was the reply, as she 
pointed towards Smith's Department 
Store, "Mr. Santa Claus ought to live 
in that house, it's so awfully big. And 
then all these boxes ! Will you help 
me look for my box? Aren't you 
Santa Claus' little boy?" 

The boy was not tall and as the 
little girl while looking for her Christ- 
mas box, had found him all covered 
with snow, she had concluded that he 
was Santa Claus' little boy. 

At this part of the narrative all the 
snowflakes laughed right merrily. 
The one that was telling the story 
laughed too, and then continued. 

"Why, little girl," exclaimed the boy 
after he had apologized most humbly 
for being but a poor newsboy and in 
no ways related to Santa Claus, "what 
are you doing out so late?" 

"Mr. Santa Claus forgot to put 
something in my stocking," she re- 
plied, trying hard to keep back the 
"Where's your stocking?" he asked. 

"Here it is," the child eagerly an- 
swered, producing at the same time a 
wee little stocking and thinking, no 
doubt, that after all, perhaps this was 
Santa Claus' little boy. 

"Goodness me! that's too small." 


The little face looked straight up at 
his, seeming to say, well why didn't I 
think of that? No wonder he put 
nothing in it ! 

"Of course not," he continued, "of 
course not; it's altogether too small." 

Disappointment now took possession 
of the little one and the tears that had 
been kept back so long, now flowed 
freely and her little body shook in her 
child grief. The poor boy did every- 
thing he could to comfort her, but all 
in vain. First he took out an old knife, 
but opening and shutting four rusty 
blades soon becomes monotonous. 
Even a bunch of keys failed to distract 
her from her sorrows. Then he 
thought of his locket. Often while at 
home he had amused his baby sister 
by hanging it around her neck. Out 
it came from the recesses of his pocket 
and with it, the desired result. As she 
stood there radiant with joy, her eyes 
sparkling through the tears and the 
snowflakes on her hair and shoulders 
glittering in the light, she seemed like 
one of those little angels that nestled 
up close to the Infant Saviour as He 
lay in the crib at Bethlehem. 

Here the snowflakes stopped speak- 
ing, and I thought at first that the 
story was ended. The word Bethle- 
hem must have reminded them of years 
ago and they were thinking of the 
things that had come to pass in those 
days ; but the narrator soon resumed 
his tale. 

"What he was to do with his charge 
was now uppermost in the boy's mind. 

Just then the chimes from St. Cecilia's 
pealed forth their welcome notes to the 
New-born King. Both children listen- 
ed attentively, smiling with pleasure 
to hear the bells. A few minutes of 
silence ensued and then as lightly as if 
they floated on flakes of snow, came 
the words, 

"Adeste fideles laeti triumphantes 
Venite, venite in Bethlehem." 

"There he is ! there he is !" cried 
the little girl clapping her hands with 
joy. "That's Santa Claus. Hear the 
bells and all the singing!" 

"Natum videte Regem Angelorum," 
continued the Christmas Carol. 

"Hurry up, we'll be late," and plac- 
ing her little hand in his, they trudged 
along through the snow in the direc- 
tion whence the music came, while 
still the welkin rang, 

"Venite adoremus, venite adore- 

Meanwhile other flakes had joined 
the few that had first gathered on my 
window-sill and began to crowd the 
little raconteur. Gradually his voice 
grew weaker, smothered by his gay, 
restless brothers. Fearing to lose the 
thread of the story, I gently brushed 
aside the topmost layer of snow, but 
alas ! my heavy hand must have crushed 
him also, for no sound other than the 
jingling of sleigh bells reached my ear. 
After waiting for a while I closed the 
window and retired to my study won- 
dering if the story were true, and, if 
so, what had become of the two little 
waifs. J. P. Newsham, '12 


dfotia in %xttha»l 

"Gloria in excelsis!" 

The tiny snowflakes sing, 
As they gently rest on hill and crest, 

To greet the new-born king. 

"Gloria in excelsis ! " 

The wind cries as it blows, 
And crooning it's song, it hurries along 

To the land of northern snows. 

"Gloria in excelsis ! ' 

The stars spell in the sky, 
In letters of gold as they did of old, 

"Glory to God on high ! ' 

"Gloria in excelsis! ' 

The mountain echoes say 
With deeping sound and endless rebound 

To the cave where Jesus lay. 

"Gloria in excelsis!" 

The merry church bells ring 
From turret and tower at the midnight hour, 

To welcome the w Infant King. 

"Gloria in excelsis ! " 

Are the words the waters sigh 
To the shores that keep the bounds of the deep, 

"Glory to God on high!" 

"Gloria in excelsis! ' 

Resounds the earth as of yore, 
The dark night breaks, the world awakes, 

And Christmas comes once more. 

Thos. P. Hale, ' 1 1 


Ta m ®u mm 

All nature was asleep when I turned 
from the big road and cantered easily 
down the bridle path that led through 
the woods to the old mill. A mist had 
come up from the swamp beyond hov- 
ering close to the earth and a weird 
sensation crept over me as I rode 
along. Soon shafts of golden sunlight 
shot through the massive foliage over- 
head, and sunlight meeting shadow, 
carpeted the earth in contrasting pat- 
terns. Shadowy forms leaped into 
trees and bushes, and the songsters of 
the forest awakened the glade with 
their cheerful melody. 

On I rode, the massive oaks on each 
side of the path, bending beneath the 
weight of their new-born leaves, bowed 
low as if to welcome me in their midst. 
Purple patches of wild violets covered 
the earth and among the violets peeped 
tiny blades of grass, each bearing a 
drop of dew that diamond-like glinted 
in the morning light. Across my path 
a wide-eyed vireo flew rapidly while 
from a low hanging branch a little 
wren looked curiously at me as I rode 
by. The yellow jessamine contended 
with the dogwood blossom to attract 
my eye. The latter was successful at 
first but it was a jessamine and not 
a blossom that I entwined in the 
horse's mane, for the fragrance of that 
flower was ravishing. 

The brook was not far away and 
when I reached it, dismounting I 
drank of its waters gold-spotted where 
the sun stole through the leaves above 
and rested on its bosom. Looking up 
I beheld silvery thieads stretched from 
one bush to another and a large gray 
spider busily weaving his web. At 
that moment a pine needle fell to the 
ground just beneath where he was, 
and I wondered if he had been using 
it in his work. 

I swung up into the saddle and rode 
towards the distant uplands that 
marked the edge of the forest. As I 
left the woods, my horse quickened his 
pace to a gallop, and turning in the 
saddle, the last thing to meet my eyes 
was a line of long leafed pines standing 
like silent sentinels guarding the mys- 
teries of the woods. 

Earl Eastin, '12 

Tfoe First %0bin 

One bright cool morning when the 
grass was just peeping out of the 
ground to see if all the snow had gone, 
I took a walk through the woods. 
Suddenly a bird alighted not fifty feet 
away. His cheery note, his sprightly 
walk, his sharp and quick glances, and 
his red breast told me that he was a 
robin. I almost clapped my hands in 
glee, and as I watched his alert actions 


I felt sure that I had never before be- 
held such a prim little creature. This 
was the first robin that I had ever seen 
and I wondered who had sent him. 
Seeming to read my thoughts he 
glanced quickly to the right and to 
the left as if to say, "He that is every- 
where." It was with regret that I 
saw him fly away, to announce to 
others, doubtless, the coming of 

A. Vasquez, '12 

Once long ago there grew in Nor- 
way, far up on a bold promontory that 
jutted into the sea, a mountain pine. 
Many leagues from its native soil it 
grew here alone. The wind moaned 
through its branches and the fierce 
northern gales shook it so violently 
that to the folk in the distant hamlet 
it seemed as if in a paroxysm of grief. 
Summer and winter came and passed; 
bright blue skies and sombre clouds, 
gentle spring and golden autumn, all 
visited this homesick pine. The tran- 
quil stillness of the fiords reflected 
the image of heaven, but even this 

could not replace the lofty hills of 
Maine where dwelt its ancestors for 

One night Neptune unleashed his 
hounds of the deep. The tempest 
struck the lonely pine with full force, 
but secure in his strength and vigor, 
he composed himself to sleep. The 
wild music of the waves dashing in 
virgin spray high up on the rock-bound 
coast, lulled him to sleep and soon he 
was far away in Dreamland. Strange 
and wonderful were his dreams that 
night. He thought he towered high 
up among the regions of bliss, enjoy- 
ing the sights and sounds of that en- 
chanted place. In an ecstasy of joy 
he leaned far over and kissed with his 
topmost branches the land of his an- 
cestors. At last his proud crest wet 
with the dews of heaven sought 
mother earth for its last long sleep. 

Next morning the fishermen of the 
coast, looking for the pine which was 
a landmark to guide them into the 
harbor, wept to see it gone. Then they 
knew that the tempest had claimed its 
own and the lonesome pine would 
keep no more its solitary vigil. 

Joseph P. Newsham, '12 

Tho' quenched for ages be a star, 

Its light shines on; 
So noble deeds still live with men, 

When thou art gone. 


Ralph Conroy, a college freshman, 
was one day accosted in the street by 
a little match-girl. 

"Please, sir," the little child pleaded, 
"will you buy my matches, mother is 

sick and " 

' "No", he returned impatiently as he 
started to resume his walk. But the 
look of pain and disappointment which 
clouded the little girl's features re- 
strained him. 

"Are you very much in need of 
money, little one?" he asked in a 
much kinder tone, than he had used 
before. Without waiting to hear the 
child's reply he took a dollar from his 
pocket and handed it to her. 

Conroy did not stop to hear the de- 
lighted thanks of the child, poured out 
from the young heart relieved of anx- 
iety. As he walked on, he began to 
think of the cigars which he would 
now be obliged to forego on account 
of having parted with the dollar. 
However, he consoled himself by say- 
ing, "Never mind, the little blue-eyed 
girl looked as if she didn't have a 
friend in the world. Dear me ! I wish 
I were rich enough to be able to help 
every poor person who applies to me 
for aid." 

While Ralph Conroy was indulging 
in these very natural reflections the 
little blue-eyed damsel had been 
hastening home. Up one street and 

down another, in and out of alleys, 
runs the little girl utterly regardless 
of the basket of unsold matches still 
hanging on her arm. Pausing for a 
moment before that rude tenement 
which she had grown to call home, 
Margaret threw open the door and 
hastily mounted the stairs. 

Her mother hearing the pattering 
of the little feet upon the stairs, ex- 
claimed "Surely that cannot be Mar- 
garet coming home so early !" 

Margaret's mother, an honest, hard- 
working woman, had striven by day 
and night to keep her little family of 
four from starvation. Her husband 
had died some years since, leaving 
her without any means of caring for 
herself and children. She had been 
able to earn enough by sewing for 
others, and now, that Margaret was 
old enough to assist her, she was sent 
out daily to sell matches. Thus they 
had been able to pay the rent for the 
little room in the dingy tenement ; but 
barely had they enough left with 
which to purchase food. 

Margaret threw open the door of the 
little room, ran to the bed where 
her mother lay, gave her the dollar, 
and in her childish way described how 
it had come into her possession. 

"God bless the kind gentleman, and 
give him prosperity!" exclaimed the 


poor woman when she heard Marga- 
ret's story. 

If Ralph Conroy could have heard 
this prayer, how trifling would have 
seemed to him the sacrifice he had 


Years have elapsed since the inci- 
dent just narrated occurred and our 
little match-girl is none other than 
Mrs. Eugene Courtney, the wife of a 
rich New York banker. Happy is her 
home for she has been blessed with 
two children, one a boy of twelve, the 
other a girl of nine. 

The three were seated in the splen- 
did dining-room a few nights before 
Christinas, awaiting the arrival of Mr. 
Courtney, when the door-bell rang 
sharply. Mrs. Courtney thinking that 
it might possibly be her husband 
hastened to the door. Upon opening 
it, a man of middle age, dressed in 
thread-bare garments, stood upon the 
threshold. On asking to see Mr. 
Courtney, he was shown into the 
banker's study and informed that Mr. 
Courtney would be in before long. 

Mr. Courtney soon came home and 
was told of his visitor in the study. 
He went in to see him and was closet- 
ed with him for some time. Mrs. 
Courtney waited impatiently for her 
husband, as she had a vivid recollec- 
tion of having seen the stranger be- 
fore and was desirous of learning his 

Finally Mr. Courtney came out from 
the study while his visitor was slowly 

retracing his steps to the street. 
The banker was evidently much re- 
lieved to be rid of him for his face in- 
stantly cleared of the stern look which 
it had worn. 

"Who is that man and what does he 
want, Eugene?" the woman asked. 

"His name is Conroy, I believe, and 
he came to apply for a situation in the 

"Will you give him the situation, 

"I don't know, Margaret, I must 
think about it." 

"Do give him the place, 'Gene." 
You know you have promised me 
over and over that you would never 
refuse any request I made of you." 

"Never fear," the banker replied, "I 
will keep my promise and will write 
the fellow a note this very evening, 
offering him a trial." 

That night after supper when the 
little children were tucked snugly in 
their beds, Margaret Courtney told 
why she wished him to give the man 
the position. 

"Eugene," said she, "I recognize in 
this Conroy a gentleman who be- 
stowed a dollar upon me when I was 
on the point of starvation." 

"That's right, Margaret," the rich 
banker replied, "never forget those 
who helped you when you needed help 
the most." The banker then wrote a 
short note to Conroy and dispatched 
it by a servant. 

Ralph Conroy was that night sitting 
at his wife's bedside when the note 


containing the good news arrived. He 
was on the verge of despair, for he was 
penniless and a big doctor's bill had 
to be paid. The three-room cottage in 
which he lived was barely furnished. 
Do what he would, he could not stave 
off the inevitable disaster, and as a last 
resource he had applied in person to 
the rich banker. 

Hearing a sharp knock on the door, 
Ralph opened it and was handed a 
letter. Hastily glancing over it he 
rushed to his sick wife's bedside and 
exclaimed "Good news, Mary ! I have 
been accepted at the bank." 

In his excitement he had not 

noticed a folded slip of paper fall from 
the note and flutter to the floor. His 
wife called his attention to it, how- 
ever, and upon picking up the paper, 
found it to be a fifty-dollar bill, neatly 
folded in an envelope on which 
was written, "To a kind gentleman 
who bestowed a dollar on the little 
match-girl many years ago." 

Needless to say, the Christmas which 
dawned a few days afterward was the 
most delightful Ralph Conroy had en- 
joyed for many a year. 

John B. Roche, 

Second Academic. 

& (Kfrristmas (Erarife 

Let my heart the cradle be 
Of Thy bleak Nativity, 
Tossed by wintry tempests wild, 
If it rock Thee, Holy Child; 
Then as grows the outer din 
Greater peace shall reign within. 

J. B. Tabb. 



* *♦* % 

It was during the holidays last 
Christmas that Shelt Thomas, Stanley 
Jackson and I made arrangements to 
go hunting. The day appointed 
dawned bright and clear. There had 
been a light frost the night before and 
it was just cold enough to make walk- 
ing pleasant. Little I thought, as we 
struck into a brisk gait, of the grue- 
some adventure that was to befall me. 
After two hours walking we reached 
the lowlands above Jasper Creek. 
Here we spread out beating to the 
north in the hope of flushing a covey 
of partridges. The morning passed 
slowly, luck was poor and when noon 
came we were only too ready to stop 
and take dinner. 

While eating we observed several 
young game birds on the other side of 
the creek and hoping for a change of 
luck we determined to cross the Jas- 
per by the trestle and try to bag them. 
The trestle is about fifty yards long 
and the track beyond runs north for 
about five hundred yards and then 
bends sharply to the west, disappearing 
behind a deeply wooded hill. Every- 
body knows, crossing a trestle you 
must keep your eyes fixed on the ties 
so as not to miss step. Stanley and I 
had more practice in this than Shelt 
and we soon left him some distance 
in the rear. Stanley had stopped for 
a moment to call back to Shelt and in 

doing so must have looked up, for I 
heard him suddenly cry out, "Look! 
here comes a train." I looked up and 
my heart stood still. There turning 
the bend was a freight train bearing 
down upon us at full speed. 

The end of the trestle was but a few 
feet away and I felt sure I could reach 
it before the train caught me. I 
started on the run but unfortunately 
glanced back to see what had become 
of the other boys. That glance came 
very near being my last for at that 
moment my foot slipped between the 
ties and there caught. I have a dim 
recollection of seeing Shelt jump over 
the side and Stanley rush past me to 
safety. I cannot describe my thoughts 
as I struggled to get free. The end of 
the trestle but a man's length away, 
the train seeming to grow larger and 
larger as it rapidly approached, the 
ground below from which they would 
probably gather my mangled remains 
and then how my mother would feel 
when they broke the news to her ! 
What a thrill ran through me when 
at last my foot was free. But there 
was no time to waste, for the train 
was almost upon me. I picked myself 
up and staggered on. Barely had I 
stepped off the trestle and sank to 
the ground exhausted than the train 
rushed by, my throbbing temples 
fanned by the breeze it created. 



We were as pale as ghosts and it 
was some time before we recovered 
our nerves. As we sat there by the 
side of the track we slowly realized 
how near to death we had been. I 
knew that the hand of God was in this 
and that my Guardian Angel had never 
left my side. Truly, as Father Finn 

says in one of his books, little boys' 
guardian angels have a busy time of it. 
We soon started for home and from 
that day to this I never pass a trestle 
without thinking of this adventure and 
thanking God for his goodness to me. 

J. B. Rives, '13 

O Mother of Him whose searching eye, 

Unfolding all things beneath its glare, 
Doth still some blemishes descry 

E'en in angelic beings fair; 
How bright must be thy purity, 

Or as the snowdrop's beauty rare, 
Or sunbeam's darting from midday sky, 

Immaculate — all spotless e'er! 





Lives of great men all remind us, 
We can make our lives sublime 

And, departing, leaves behind us 
Foot-prints on the sands of time. 

Our only apology for quoting the 
commonplace from our greatest Amer- 
ican poet is the appositeness of the 
lines to the present subject. We pur- 
pose to present a brief biographical 
sketch of a man who was truly great; 
whose life from many points of view 
was truly sublime ; whose heroic 
struggle against adverse circum- 
stances in the shape of poverty, dis- 
ease and hostile criticism commands 
our admiration and should serve as an 
inspiration. That man was the musi- 
cian, the critic, the poet — Sidney La- 
nier. Although the life of this ardent 
singer is an inspiration for all who 
read and study it, special interest at- 
taches to it for us in particular. La- 
nier is not one of the immortals who 
have come down to us from the sto- 
ried past; he is not a Homer or a Vir- 
gil, the light of whose genius illu- 
mined an ancient civilization, and 
shines upon us still like a bright star 
in the distant firmament. He is but 
of yesterday — a product of our own 
times and of our own dear Southland, 
which he loved so well. For a time 
he was a resident of this very state, 
nay, of the immediate vicinity, having 
spent some months at Point Clear 
across the Bay. The story of his sad 
life is briefly told. 

Sidney Lanier was born at Macon, 
Georgia, on the 3rd of February, 
1842. On both his father's and his 
mother's side he could trace his ances- 
try back to the early settlers of Vir- 
ginia. At a very early age he dis- 
played a rare talent for music. In 
fact, he seems to have been something 
of a musical prodigy, for his biogra- 
phers tell us that he learned to play 
on every kind of musical instrument 
that he could find — the piano, organ, 
violin, guitar, and flute. He was espe- 
cially fond of the flute and the violin. 
Of a high-strung, nervous tempera- 
ment and a keenly sensitive nature, he 
found in the violin an instrument to 
express his own delicate feelings ; but 
in compliance with his father's wish 
who feared that his health could not 
stand his ardent devotion to the vio- 
lin, he made the flute his specialty. 

When he was fourteen years old, he 
entered the Sophomore class of Ogle- 
thorpe College at Milledgeville, Geor- 
gia. The future poet made the best 
use of the opportunities the little col- 
lege afforded, and took his studies in 
a serious, manly way. Circumstances 
compelled him to interrupt his studies 
for a year which he spent as a clerk 
in the Macon Post Office. In the year 
1860, he was graduated at the head of 
his class and was at once offered a 
position as tutor in his Alma Mater. 
While at Oglethorpe he attracted to 



himself by his winning disposition the 
best spirits of the college, and in par- 
ticular one of the professors, by whom 
he seems to have been specially influ- 
enced. Years afterwards, when he was 
dying, he acknowledged that he owed 
to Prof. Woodrow the strongest and 
most valuable stimulus of his youth. 
Under the guidance of Dr. Woodrow 
he was planning to pursue higher 
studies abroad. But these plans were 
never realized. 

It was April of the year 1861. The 
cloud that so long had hung threaten- 
ingly on the horizon swept rapidly 
over the land; the storm burst in all 
its fury and Lanier like many an- 
other, was called from the pursuit of 
the arts of peace to all the grim hor- 
rors of civil war. With his brother 
he joined the Macon Volunteers of the 
Second Georgia Battalion which was 
ordered to Virginia. The first year 
did not bring much active service and 
Lanier spent his abundant leisure in 
the study of German , French and 
Spanish. He was destined, however, 
to see fierce fighting in the battles of 
Seven Pines, Drewry's Bluffs and the 
seven days fighting about Richmond. 
After this campaign he was transferred 
to the signal service, and later took 
charge of a vessel which attempted to 
run the blockade. The attempt was 
unsuccessful. The vessel was captured 
and Lanier imprisoned at Point Look- 
out where he remained for five 
months until he was exchanged to- 
ward the end of the war. From Point 

Lookout Lanier returned on foot to 
his home in Georgia. The hardships 
of his four years of service, the long 
journey which occupied a month and 
a half made a wreck of his weak con- 
stitution. The rest of his life was a 
continual struggle against consump- 
tion which he had inherited from his 
mother. After two months spent at 
Point Clear across the Bay, he was 
engaged for two years in clerical work 
in Montgomery; then he took charge 
of an Academy at Prattville for a 
year; after which he entered his 
father's law office in Macon. 

Meantime the deadly disease was 
making steady progress. In the hope 
of relief he went to Texas, and later, 
in 1873, to Baltimore, where his liter- 
ary career really began. He secured 
a position as first flutist in the then 
famous Peabody Orchestra and de- 
voted himself to the study of English 
Literature from its first beginnings in 
the Anglo-Saxon period down to his 
own time. The first of his poems to 
attract attention was "Corn," pub- 
lished in Lippincott's Magazine. This 
was followed by "The Symphony," 
"The Psalm of the West" and the 
"Cantata," written for the Centennial 
Exposition in Philadelphia. Just 
about this time his studies in Old 
English Literature began to bear fruit 
in a course of lectures delivered in 
the Peabody Institute, and he was 
then honored with an appointment to 
the chair of English Literature in 
Johns Hopkins University. Hereto- 



fore his poor health and the necessity 
of providing for his family had often 
forced him to do such literary hack 
work as chance put in his way. With 
the salary attached to his professor- 
ship, he was free to follow the bent 
of his genius. Among the poems of 
this period we may mention "A Song 
of the Future," "The Revenge of 
Hamish," "The Marshes of Glynn," 
and "The Song of the Chattahoochee," 
which are in his most characteristic 
style. During a vacation spent in 
1879 at Rockingham Springs, Virginia, 
he began and completed in six weeks 
his book, The Science of English 
Verse which is considered by many as 
one of the ablest and most authorita- 
tive works on the subject. All through 
the next winter, despite his rapidly 
failing health, he led a most busy life, 
appearing regularly at the rehearsals 
and concerts of the Peabody Orches- 
tra, publishing various writings and 
conducting lecture courses both in the 
university and at private schools. So 
he continued his strenuous life up to 
the very end. What a struggle was 
that last year ! December of the year, 
1880, saw him at the very gate of 
death. The first few of his University 
lectures, later published under the title 
of "The English Novel," he wrote 
himself; the rest he was forced to dic- 
tate to his wife. He was so weak that 
he had to deliver the lectures, seated 
in a chair, and those who heard him 
were often alarmed and in doubt lest 
his breath should completely fail be- 

fore the end of the hour. Yet it was 
at this time when he was too feeble 
to lift his food to his mouth, when he 
was burning with a fever of 104°, that 
he wrote his last and great poem 
"Sunrise." In April, 1881, his doctors 
advised him that the only hope of pro- 
longing his life was to get to a high, 
pure atmosphere. Accordingly he 
went to Asheville, N. C, and later to 
Lynn in the same state. Here on the 
seventh of September, 1881, the long, 
hard struggle came to an end. The 
tragedy was over. In the words of 
his great admirer, William Hayes 
Ward: "J ust when he seemed to 
have conquered success enough to as- 
sure him a little leisure to write his 
poems, then his feeble but resolute 
hold upon earth was exhausted. What 
he left behind was written with his 
life blood. High above all the evils of 
the world he lived in a realm of ideal 
serenity, as if it were the business of a 
life to conquer difficulties." 

We began this sketch with a quota- 
tion from Longfellow's Psalm of Life 

Lives of great men all remind us 
We can make our lives sublime. 

It seems to us that we cannot bet- 
ter conclude this sketch than by quot- 
ing from the same poem the lines 
which express the great lesson taught 
by the life of our Southern poet. 
Let us, then, be up and doing, 

With a heart for any fate; 

Still achieving, still pursuing— 

Learn to labor and to wait. 

George L. Mayer, '12 



















Thirty years ago, when the Johns 
Hopkins University called Sidney 
Lanier to the chair of English Litera- 
ture, and when he was chosen to write 
the Cantata for the Centennial Expo- 
sition, his literary merit was recog- 
nized. Since then his published 
works have extended his literary re- 
nown both at home and abroad and 
to-day no one who makes pretense of 
an acquaintance with the world of let- 
ters can afford to be ignorant of La- 
nier's contribution to English litera- 
ture. Although he wrote a novel, 
"Tiger Lilies," two volumes of essays, 
two volumes of lectures, three books 
for boys, "The Science of English 
Verse" and "The Development of the 
English Novel," still it is not by these 
works that he would wish us to judge 
of his literary worth. His hardest and 
most earnest work was spent upon his 
poems, they contain his message to 
his fellow-man and represent his 
ideals, his ambitions and his life-work. 
In letters to his father and to his wife 
he leaves no doubt of his own 
personal conviction that he had a vo- 
cation to labor in the field of poetry, 
he confesses that he has followed the 
art long and humbly and through 
much bitterness, and claims the right 
to enroll himself among the sublime 
art's devotees. This paper is a modest 
attempt to examine those claims, a 
student's humble endeavor to appre- 

ciate the poetry of Sidney Lanier. 

Every attempt at an appreciation of 
Lanier's poetry must include his 
longer poems : The Psalm of the West, 
The Symphony, Corn and Clover. The 
first deals poetically with the western 
continent and the men and events 
connected with its history. This plan 
gives the author an opportunity to 
celebrate the discovery of the land by 
Eric and Columbus, the arrival of the 
Pilgrims, the struggle for independ- 
ence and the Civil War. In a short 
paper like the present we cannot be 
expected to enter into much detailed 
criticism, especially of so long a poem 
as the Psalm of the West. We shall 
content ourselves with presenting one 
or two ideas as specimens of the poet's 

As God took from Adam's side 
the rib from which He fashioned Eve, 
so, in the designs of God, out of this 
new land came liberty to be forever 
united with the land, "Tall Adam, of 
the West." The Civil War is repre- 
sented as a passage at arms between 
two brave knights, the one, the South, 
called Heart, the other, the North, 
called Brain. 

Lists all white and blue in the skies; 

And the people hurried amain 

To the tournament under the ladies' 

Where jousted Heart and Brain. 



They charged, they struck ; both fell, 

both bled; 
Brain rose again, ungloved; 
Heart fainting smiled and softly said, 
My love to my beloved. 

Heart and Brain! No more be twain; 
Throb and think, one flesh again." 

The Symphony is the poet's protest 
against Commercialism. 

O trade, O trade, would thou wert 

The time needs heart, 'tis tired of 


Problems of life — social, industrial 
and moral — are discussed. First we 
hear the passionate protesting of the 

Look up the land, look down the land ; 
The poor, the poor, the poor — they 

Wedged by the pressing of Trade's 

Against an inward-opening door 
That pressure tightens ever more ; 
They sigh a monstrous foul-air sigh 
For the outside leagues of liberty 
Where art, sweet lark, translates the 

Into a heavenly melody. 

Then is heard the flute whose vel- 
vet note falls upon the harmony of 
sound as softly as a petal from a wild 
rose blown upon tranquil, shadowy 

waters. This petal on a harmony 
speaks for all Nature — 

All fair forms and sounds and lights 
And warmths and mysteries and 

Of Nature's utmost depths and 


It calls aloud: 

Trade, Trade, thou king of the mod- 
ern days, 

Change thy ways, change thy ways — 

Let the sweaty laborers file 

A little while, a little while, 

Where Art and Nature sing and 

A like protest is uttered by the clar- 
ionet, the horn, the hautboy and the 
bassoons. One cannot but note the 
poet's characteristic description of 
each instrument and how admirably 
the lines are suited to each, like the 
lines assigned to the various charac- 
ters of a drama. The melting song 
of the clarionet is compared to the 
singing of a lady whose eyes are still 
wet with bitter tears ; the horn is bold 
and straightforward ; the hautboy is 
like a large-eyed child, cool-hearted 
and undented. Lastly there are the 
ancient wise bassoons 

Like weird 
Old harpers sitting on high sea-dunes. 

For all the ills of life love is the 
remedy — love for Nature, true love, 



love for our human kind. And thus 
the poem ends in a fine quatrain : 
And yet shall love himself be heard 
Tho' long deferred, tho' long deferred ; 

O'er the modern waste a dove hath 

Music is love in search of a word. 

The two poems with the homely 
titles "Corn" and "Clover" treat of 
lofty subjects : The first, of the true 
poet's leadership, the second, of the 
poet's mission, which is to advance 
the higher good of man. In both the 
poet displays his intimacy with na- 
ture and his appreciation of nature's 
charms, which he loves to describe. 
Then easily, gracefully, one is fain to 
say, naturally, he rises to the real 
theme of his song. These four poems, 
"Corn," "Clover," "The Symphony" 
and "The Psalm of the West," repre- 
sent Lanier's most serious work ; but 
he is perhaps better known and more 
admired for his lyrics — "The Hymns 
of the Marshes," the "Song of the 
Chattahoochee," the "Sonnet to the 
Mocking Bird" and the exquisite "Bal- 
lad of Trees and the Master." 
Into the woods my Master went 
Clean forspent, forspent. 
Into the woods my Master came, 
Forspent with love and shame. 
But the olives they were not blind to 

The little gray leaves were kind to 

The thorn-tree had a mind to him 
When into the woods He came. 

Out of the woods my Master went 
And he was well content. 
Out of the woods my Master came, 
Content with death and shame. 
When death and shame would woo 

Him last, 
From under the trees they drew Him 

'Twas on a tree they slew Him — last 
When out of the woods He came. 

One has only to read or hear this 
wonderfully simple poem to appreci- 
ate its beauty. 

In the "Song of the Chattahoochee" 
the poet has admirably adapted the 
movement to the subject. When read 
aloud, one almost fancies he hears the 
river as it ripples over the rocks or 
flows more gently between its banks 
shaded by the oak and the chestnut 
and the pine. Again he sees it linger- 
ing lovingly among the grasses and 
ferns and water-weeds. But more 
than anything else, it is the music of 
the poem that fixes the attention of 
the reader. By a skillful and frequent 
use of alliteration by artful employ- 
ment of the refrain and by clever in- 
sertion of a rhyme in the middle of a 
line, the author has succeeded in mak- 
ing the poem a genuine song of sweet, 
rich music. One stanza will serve as 
illustration : 

All .down the hills of Habersham, 
All through the valleys of Hall 
The rushes cried, "Abide, Abide," 
The wilful water-weeds held me 



The laving laurel turned my tide, 
The ferns and the fondling grass said 

The dewberry dipped for to work de- 
And the little reeds sighed, "Abide 

Here in the hil-ls of Haversham, 
Here in the valleys of Hall.'' 

Lanier had his own ideas of versi- 
fication which he has developed in his 
work, "The Science of English Verse," 
and applied especially to his later 
poems. Here the musician came to 
the aid of the poet. Hence it is that 
some of the lines offer some difficulty 
to the beginner who attempts to scan 
them according to the old idea of so 
many feet to the line. Hence, too, the 
irregularity that strikes the reader oc- 
casionally, although as a rule the me- 
tre is very regular. In "The Revenge 
of Hamish" the stanza is made up of 
four lines of which the first rhymes 
with the fourth and the second with 
the third, but the verses are of un- 
equal length ; the first has six feet, the 
second five, the third four, and the 
fourth again six. 

The poet's diction is very precise, 
at times polished and ornate, at times 
very simple. He shows a fondness 
for obsolete forms such as the double 
preposition "for to" before the infini- 
tive, and the superfluous pronoun, as 
in the line : 

And I ran for to turn, but my breath 
it was blown. 

Most of his poems are characterized 
by delicacy and intensity. This is 
most manifest when he is describing 
natural scenery and shows his ardent 
love for nature. Only an ardent lover 
of nature could describe its charms 
so minutely and tenderly. Still his 
love for nature did not make him for- 
get his fellow-men ♦ nor the all-wise 
Creator. Hence his poems are not 
without human interest, and their 
study should bring one with the au- 
thor closer to God. Listen to the lines 
from the "Marshes of Glynn" : 

As the marsh-hen secretly builds on 

the watery sod, 
Behold I will build me a nest on the 

greatness of God: 
I will fly in the greatness of God as 

the marsh-hen flies 
In the freedom that fills all the space 

'twixt the marsh and the skies : 
By so many roots as the marsh-grass 

sends in the sod 
I will heartily lay me a-hold on the 

greatness of God. 

Whether or not Lanier's poems will 
live, whether later generations will es- 
teem them worthy of preservation, 
who shall say? It is not for us to de- 
cide. The fact that today they are 
valued more highly than they were 
during the lifetime of the poet is a 
hopeful sign. Be this as it may, it 
seems to us that no one can read La- 
nier's poems and fail to discover in 
the author an ardent love of nature, 
a keen insight into its beauties, and a 


power of interpreting them for others, tire, Lanier could rightly believe him- 

a wonderful melody, beauty of die- self called to the worship of the Muse 

tion, delicate sentiment, human inter- and surely never was devotee of the 

est and deep religious feeling. In the Muse more faithful, 
conscious possession of such a treas- M. Humbert Diaz, '12 

What's the secret of success? 

Hard to answer, I confess. 
Best of plans I deem this one: 
Stick to what you've once begun. 



vlv §§)ixxm^i%%% ^f&Mt%0u 

It was the exceeding good fortune 
of the writer to have been one of the 
members of the summer class in sur- 
veying which held forth last August 
at Battles Wharf, Ala., — the well 
known summer resort on the eastern 
shore of Mobile Bay. The class is a 
unique feature in the curriculum of 
the College. Having been suggested 
by the professor of Higher Mathemat- 
ics, it was planned and carried through 
successfully under the able direction 
of our instructor in Engineering, Prof. 

It is seldom practicable in many of 
our preparatory colleges to impart any- 
thing but a theoretical knowledge to 
a surveying class, on account of the 
limited period of time devoted to each 
branch of study. Consequently ,the 
students obtain merely a superficial 
knowledge of the science. They may 
learn to plot an imaginary field, or 
they may be familiar with the many 
technical terms and various instru- 
ments employed in surveying; but 
when it comes to the actual adjusting 
of instruments under new and pecu- 
liar conditions, the taking of offsets, 
triangulating, finding altitudes and the 
like, — ah, "there's the rub" for the 
poor student with a head full of book- 
knowledge but lacking the essential 
training of experience. 

Our Prof, of Mathematics, realizing 
all these difficulties, opened a class 
for those students who had studied 
under him during the scholastic year, 
and with this class I found myself, 
early on the morning of August the 
fourth, fully primed for a thorough 
surveying expedition. 

I must confess that I was somewhat 
dumbfounded and confused at the per- 
plexing and formidable array of in- 
struments, stakes, tapes, transit, 
sounding rods, — to say nothing of cul- 
inary utensils, of whose value I was 
to learn more during the day. These 
having been placed in a yawl, were 
carried to a point about five miles 
north of Battle's Wharf known as Sea 

This was to be the scene of our 
labors; and it was not long before, 
with theodolite and rods, we had es- 
tablished our base line running due 
north and south along the shore. We 
adjusted the instruments for reading- 
elevations ; next, we established our 
tide-gauges, and then set to work 
making our triangulations, sighting 
the heads of the long piers of Volanta 
and Sea Cliff and the angles which 
were to help us afterwards in making 
our map. While the work of deter- 
mining the essential points and their 
respective bearings was going on, an- 
other party was dispatched to make 



soundings from the shore to the ex- 
tremity of both wharves, covering the 
entire course of the proposed channel 
which is intended to lead ferry-boats, 
plying between Mobile and Fly Creek, 
to a safe haven. To this party I was 
assigned . Our work consisted in 
measuring the depth of the water 
every ten feet along the line run per- 
pendicularly to our base-line; the re- 
sult of which process may be observed 
by consulting the small figures in the 
accompanying map which represent 
the actual depths reduced to mean 
low water. This was a most arduous 
task; and was made doubly tedious by 
the intensity of the sun's rays beating 
on our backs. 

We also found that the gentle science 
of surveying did not take away our 
appetites, but had rather whetted them 
to a very keen edge. By a unanimous 
vote instruments were laid aside at 
12:30; and we followed the leaders in 
the direction of the temporary camp, 
whence the savor of broiling meat 
smote our nostrils. In true Indian 
fashion we sat about the fire which 
was built on a high embankment, over- 
looking a clear, deep stream ; and of 

course the usual camp jokes and say- 
ings passed around. A damper was 
soon put on this school-boy spirit by 
the professor who, with all seeming 
disregard for our weary limbs, an- 
nounced that we were sufficiently re- 
galed and rested, and that we were 
better looking men while we were at 
work than when stretched at ease on 
the greensward. 

Back again at the tapes and transit, 
we made minute offsets for the con- 
tour of the shore from which the out- 
line in the map was plotted. This 
was soon completed and we then made 
the sounding along-side the Sea Cliff 
and Volanta piers, the memory of 
which effort still lingers with me ; for 
the piers run out into the water to a 
distance of 1200 and 1400 feet respec- 

We returned home a little before 
dark, all well content to be in a soft 
chair again. While some retired early, 
others preferred to stay up late and 
make the preliminary draught of our 
day's work. Dear reader, I was one 
of the early birds. 

James Duggan, '10 





Ralph Simpson was the son of 
wealthy New York parents. His father 
had died when he was only five years 
of age and since then, to the present 
year, — his twenty-third — he had lived 
with his mother, who thought she had 
in him the consolation and comfort 
of her declining years. 

These fond hopes of hers were des- 
tined soon to be shattered. Ralph had 
formed the friendship of a set of young 
men who were trying, with satanic 
cunning, to draw him away from the 
Catholic faith and entice him into a 
forbidden secret society, of which they 
were members. At last they succeeded 
in gaining his consent to be initiated. 
According to the program of his initia- 
tion Ralph had to sign a document 
in which he renounced all affiliation to 
the Catholic Church. He signed it 
with his full name, — Ralph Mary 

The president of the lodge, seeing 
the name of the Blessed Virgin upon 
the parchment, exclaimed in a rough 
voice : "See here, you must not write 
that name ! Blot it out or we will have 
to begin all over again. Do you not 
know that this name," and he placed 
his finger on the name of Mary, "is 
held in abomination here?" "What!" 
exclaimed Ralph, "blot out the name 
of the Blessed Mother, the name of 
her whom I learned to love at my 

Mother's knee? Never! You have 
lowered me enough without adding 
this greater insult. I will write either 
my full name or none !" 

The president, fearing to lose so 
valuable a recruit, said no more and 
the name of the Virgin Mary remained 
on the document. 

During the next two weeks, Mrs. 
Simpson noticed a great change in the 
general conduct of Ralph and won- 
dered at the cause of it. She had 
asked him if he were unwell, but he 
avoided a direct answer by laughing 
at, and pooh-poohing her fears. 

One day, after long pondering over 
the matter, the awful truth gradually 
dawned upon Mrs. Simpson. She now 
remembered that his closest friends 
were members of an organization un- 
der the Church's ban, and that he 
had sided with most of their theories, 
although she had explained to him that 
they were all false. That evening 
she asked Ralph if he had joined his 
friends' lodge. He answered that he 
had, and intended to remain with them. 
This rash act broke his mother's heart 
and with her eyes brimming over with 
tears, she completely disowned him. 

"Go!" she said, "go I I will not have 
an ememy of God in my home while 
I live." 

Ralph Simpson left his mother's 
home with a heavy and aching heart. 



He went direct to the lodge and pre- 
pared to live there, although he felt 
it could never be a home to him. 

Two years passed. During this 
period Mrs. Simpson prayed long and 
earnestly for the return of her son to 
the Catholic faith. One morning she 
heard a knock at the front door, and 
upon opening it she beheld a young 
woman whom she immediately rec- 
ognized as Jane Dunn, once a servant 
of her household. Jane was now em- 
ployed as house-keeper at the lodge 
where Ralph had taken up his abode, 
and she told Mrs. Simpson that Ralph 
was now dying with fever and that it 
would be well if she could see him at 
once. About an hour later, Mrs. 
Simpson presented herself before the 
magnificent, brown-stone building 
where her boy lay dying. She asked 
to be allowed to see her son, but the 
officials refused, saying he was not to 
be disturbed. She begged, pleaded, 
and even went down on her knees 
praying to be allowed to see her son. 
But these evil-minded men were firm 
and refused every petition, realizing 
too well all that such a meeting would 
bring about. 

As a last resort the heart-broken 
mother went to see the priest, an in- 
timate friend of hers, who was in 
charge of a parish in the Bronx. "In 
this case," he said, "the only thing to 
do is to turn to the Blessed Mother. 
She is our help and our guide. I will 
say a novena of Masses, and do you 
offer a novena of communions for his 

conversion." Mrs. Simpson consented 
and in the mean time redoubled 
her prayers and supplications to the 
Blessed Virgin. 

It was apparent, however, that 
Ralph's illness was getting the better 
of him and that the end was fast ap- 
proaching. One night, at about eleven 
o'clock, while the watchers were noise- 
lessly pacing up and down the corri- 
dors outside Ralph's room, there was 
a sharp rap at the door and Jane 
hastened to open it. Great was her 
surprise when she saw the face of Mrs. 
Simpson enshrouded in widow's 
weeds. She only glanced at Jane and 
motioned with her finger to be quiet. 
Then she quickly stepped across the 
hall and entered the sick boy's bed- 
room, and as the door was closing be- 
hind her, Jane heard those peerless 
Avords, muttered faintly by the feverish 
lips ; "Mother, Mother." At this mo- 
ment Jane noticed that all the mem- 
bers of the club had left the house. 
She was occupied with this thought 
when Mrs. Simpson came out of the 
room and said, "I am going for a 
priest." In half an hour she returned, 
accompanied by Father Cody whom 
Jane recognized as the parish priest 
from the Bronx. The priest entered 
the sick room and soon reappeared, 
his face radiant with joy. 

"It's all right," he said, "he has re- 
ceived the last sacraments and has re- 
nounced all connection with this for- 
bidden society. He is now sleeping 
peacefully. I will go and will be 



back in the morning." Having said this 
Father Cody and Mrs. Simpson left 
the lodge. 

The following morning the first to 
arrive was Mrs. Simpson. She spoke 
to Jane saying, "Is my son improving? 
I wish I could see him for only a min- 
ute." Jane, taking her arm, said en- 
couragingly : "The way is open to 
you now, Madam, since your visit of 
last night." 

"Since my visit of last night !" ex- 
claimed the mother. 

"Why — yes'm," answered Jane, 
"since your son received the last sacra- 
ments, not one of the club members 
has been here." 

"My dear Jane," said the surprised 
mother, "I was not here last night 
and I do not know the least thing 
about my son's receiving the last sac- 

It was hard to explain matters then 
and there to the distracted mother, but 
but when she rushed into Ralph's bed- 
room she learned the story from his 
own lips. The Blessed Virgin under 
the guise of his own mother had vis- 
ited him last night, had brought a 
priest and, thereby, had enabled him to 
receive the last sacraments. The de- 

lighted mother fell on her knees and 
poured out her thankful heart to the 
Mother of mercy. 

"And, O mother!" exclaimed the 
son later, "the Blessed Virgin came to 
me last night and said I would die 
to-day at the next hour, because I am 
weak and I might fall into sin again. 
And, mother, she promised to take me 
with her to Heaven. I never was so 
happy as I am now." 

For the next hour Mrs. Simpson was 
praying at the bedside of her dying 
son. The clock was striking twelve 
when Ralph suddenly exclaimed, 
"Mother! Mother! there She is! there 
She is !" A moment passed and he 
was gone to everlasting happiness. His 
face beamed like a living sun, so 
beautiful and so resigned was the ex- 
pression on it. All the mother could 
do was to weep tears of joy. She knelt 
down and prayed that she too might 
soon be with him, as earth had no 
longer any attraction for her. 

Thus the merciful Virgin had re- 
mained faithful to one who had re- 
fused to deny her name and love be- 
fore her sworn enemies. 

John McCarthy, 

Second Academic 


Tis in tl^e green sequestered vale 

Where rnocKers build their nest; 
Wl^ere dxlsK corries ere the King of day 

His head lays down to rest. 

'Tis by the little babbling brooK 

Where reeds and rushes grow, 
And drooping flowers lean to Kiss 

Soft zephyrs as they blow. 

'Tis near the little wooden bridge 

That spans the lowly creeK, 
Where weeping willows sadly Wave 

With heads low-bowed and rneeK- 

Tis 'neath the honey-sUcKle vine 
That drape the Woodland bowers; 

Where flit the hunting birds to steal 
Sweet nectar frorn the flowers. 

In haunts liKe these the nqUses rnaKe 

Their horne for ages long; 
Here, wooing, cornes their latest child 

To list and learn their song. 

Jarnes D. Mclntyre, '11 




Early in September the news 
reached us that at last the North Pole 
had been discovered, and America 
thrilled with pride when with the 
news came the explorer's name, Fred- 
erick S. Cook. Ten days passed, days 
of eulogy and praise for the daring 
explorer, days of feverish curiosity 
for the details of the expedition, when 
another flash came from the north 
bearing the same report but with an- 
other's signature. 

Then followed weeks of disgraceful 
dispatches and cutting cartoons and 
the air grew heavy with the smoke of 
battle. Time has lent a perspective to 
the discoverer's dispute ; and, as a 
man placed on a mountain, viewing 
the battle from afar, sees better than 
one engaged in the fray, so likewise 
we, removed by the lapse of time from 
those days when first the news came, 
can now read with minds less biased 
the reports of the expeditions to the 
earth's northern center, and at the 
same time form some estimate of the 
dangers and difficulties of the explo- 
ration, and the courage and intrepidity 
of the explorers. With this in view, 
and despite the fact that what we say 
may be already known to the readers, 
we venture to sum up the reports of 
both explorers. We are indebted in 
the main for our facts to the National 
Geographic Magazine, kindly loaned 
us by Prof. P. C. Boudousquie, an 

eminent member of the National 
Geographic Society. 

"After a prolonged fight against 
famine and frost," says Dr. Cook, "we 
have at last succeeded in reaching the 
North Pole." " Cook had been cruising 
in the summer of 1907 in the Arctic 
Seas and had reached the limits of 
northern navigation in Smith Sound. 
Conditions being favorable, he deter- 
mined to make a rush for the pole, a 
distance of seven hundred miles. 
Preparations were at once begun. A 
base of supplies was established 
through the liberality of the owner of 
the yacht "Bradley," dogs were pro- 
cured from the Eskimos then engaged 
in their winter hunt, and Cook's own 
equipment was made ready for the 

If the reader will glance at a map 
of North America he will see that 
Smith's Sound connects Baffin Bay 
with the Arctic Sea and separates 
Greenland from Grinnell Land. It 
was Cook's intention to force a new 
route over Grinnell Land and north- 
ward along its western coast to a cer- 
tain point and from there straight over 
the frozen sea to the pole. Accord- 
ingly he set out on February 19, 1907, 
with one hundred and three dogs 
drawing eleven sleds, with a man for 
each sled. 

A month later, Grinnell Land hav- 
ing been traversed, land's end was 



reached and only the polar seas lay 
between the explorer and the pole. 
Here the party divided, six Eskimos 
returning, leaving Cook with four men 
and forty-six dogs carrying supplies 
for eighty days. During the passage 
over Grinell Land the party had suf- 
fered severely from the cold, the tem- 
perature falling to S3 degrees below 
zero. A halt was called and the ex- 
pedition rested for three days before 
attempting the passage of the Arctic 

On the morning of March 18, the 
wind blew at a half gale from the 
northwest and the snow fell heavily. 
Towards noon the wind veered to the 
southwest, the horizon cleared and 
immediately preparations were made 
for the final dash. The air was clear 
and the dogs leaped gaily from the 
frozen land out on to the frozen sea. 
The wind had blown the snow into 
drifts and across the wind-swept ice 
the explorers traveled for three days. 
At the end of this time the last sup- 
porting party turned back, leaving 
Cook and the two Eskimos, Etuki- 
shook and Ahwelah, with twenty-six 
dogs, to make the remaining four hun- 
dred and sixty miles to the pole. 

Sitting comfortably in our cozy 
study, four hundred and sixty miles 
does not seem to be a great distance ; 
in fact, even with the simple motive 
force employed by the Eskimos, it 
could be covered in a comparatively 
short time, as dogs have been known 
to travel fifty or sixty miles a day. 

But in the Arctic Zone, difficulties are 
met with that arise from the nature of 
the perpetually frozen region. 

Ridges of ice formed by the influ- 
ence of land pressure impede the ex- 
plorer's progress, leads or large rifts 
in the ice imperil his existence, irreg- 
ular fields of old ice injure the sledges 
and cut the dogs' feet, while fields of 
young ice bend beneath the runners, 
threatening to give way at any mo- 
ment. And so it is that much time is 
lost in making circuitous routes 
around troublesome ridges, traveling 
slowly over uneven fields of old ice, 
and waiting for leads to close and 
young ice to strengthen. Thus it was 
that after nine days of forced marches, 
Cook found that he had traveled but 
a little over one hundred miles. 

Long since the dull blue haze that 
told of land had melted away and still 
the explorer kept on, sleeping in snow 
houses, with dried beef and tallow for 
food, and for drink, hot tea. Each day 
they awoke to new dangers. Low tem- 
perature and persistent winds made 
life a torture. Eyes grew tired from 
the continual glimmer of the snow 
and ice, legs grown weary from travel 
ached to be at rest. Onward and 
northward, for death and failure hung 
in the balance. 

One dog after another had grown 
weary and was killed and eaten by his 
mates. Supplies were gradually di- 
minishing and sleds grew lighter. 
Over the monotonous sea of moving 
ice they pushed. The terrible silence 



of the great unknown became almost 
unendurable. Yet northward they 
still journeyed, tired man and tired 
beast, to reach that polar world that 
had lured so many to death and de- 

Observations were taken. Half the 
distance had been traversed, only two 
hundred miles remain. The terrible 
grind is taken up again. Would it 
never cease, this laboring of the lungs, 
this piston-like regularity of aching 
legs? Onward and northward, for 
death and failure hung in the balance. 

They are now within a hundred 
miles of the pole. A day is spent rest- 
ing. That night they are disturbed 
by the groaning of the ice. The dogs 
are buried in the ever falling snow. 
Towards morning a crevice is noticed 
forming on the surface of the frozen 
sea. Quick ! or all will be lost. A hur- 
ried breakfast and they are off. The 
snow falls heavily. They are forced to 
stop. The snow ceases. Forward. 
Slow progress. Long and forced 
marches. As a last chance the ex- 
plorer travels at night and rests during 
the day. 

The time has now come to concen- 
trate all energy on the final marches. 
Signs of land were seen, but they were 
caused by mirage. All nature, the 
snow and ice beneath, as well as the 
sky above, took on a deep purple blue. 
No time was spent \a building snow 
houses ; a silk tent sufficed for shelter. 

April 18. Went into camp at 8:00 
a. m. Great excitement, for two 

marches more and the pole would be 

April 19. Dogs trotting nicely. 
Men in good spirits. Long march. 
Slept for eight hours. 

April 20. Up and away soon after 
midnight. Slowly but surely the dis- 
tance is lessening. But oh ! the terri- 
ble soul-dejecting monotony of the 

April 21. At last! 

Such is the story of Cook's expedi- 
tion. We need not dwell on the feel- 
ings that flooded his soul when he 
reached the boreal center of the globe. 
Words cannot describe them, and 
they are but dimly pictured in the im- 
agination even after recalling to mem- 
ory the brave and gallant deeds of 
those explorers that from the days of 
Sir John Ross, in 1818, to the fatal 
expedition of Lieut. De Long, in 1879, 
pushed northward to the death-deal- 
ing, silent pole. 

Almost a year had passed since 
Cook's visit when the the polar region 
once more reverberated with the 
barking of dogs and the voices of men. 
This second expedition was headed 
by Commander Robert E. Peary, 
U. S. N. 

In the month of August, 1908, the 
steamer Roosevelt turned her prow 
into Smith Sound and began to cut 
her way through the frozen waters 
northward to where the sound enters 
the Arctic Sea/ Progress was slow, 
but with that energy that has always 
characterized the expeditions of 












Peary, the Roosevelt finally rounded 
Cape Sheridan, the most northern 
point of Grinnell Land, and put in at 
the mouth of the Sheridan River. The 
ship discharged her supplies at once 
and winter camp was established. 
This was in September, 1908. Prepa- 
rations were at once begun for the 
spring trip to the pole. As far west 
along the northern coast of Grinnell 
Land as Cape Columbia, supplies 
were deposited in various places, and 
when February came, everything was 
in readiness for the expedition. 

The exploring party was divided 
into relays, each relay under a com- 
petent leader. It was the duty of the 
first division to advance rapidly, cut- 
ting a trail over the ice and preparing 
the way for the others to follow. 
When a certain point was reached, 
they were to turn back, the second di- 
vision now bearing the brunt of the 
travel and giving way in turn to the 
third, and so on until the last division 
comparatively fresh and liberally sup- 
plied, could dash to the pole with 
every probability of success. 

On the last day of February, 1909, 
the first detachment under Captain 
Bartlett got away from Cape Colum- 
bia and headed due north over the sea 
of ice. The next day the others struck 
his trail and the expedition was on. 
The party comprised seven Ameri- 
cans, seventeen Eskimos and one 
hundred and thirty-three dogs pulling 
nineteen sleds. The temperature was 
away below zero and a strong wind 

from the east piled the snow in 
drifts. The ice was rough and several 
sleds were so damaged that teams 
had to be sent back to Cape Columbia 
for new ones. Camp was pitched 
that night ten miles from Cape Co- 
lumbia. Meanwhile Bartlett's de- 
tachment was forging ahead. The 
main division had advanced but 
eleven miles the second day, when 
they were brought to a stop by an 
open lead which had formed after 
Bartlett had passed. 

The following day the lead was 
crossed and that night they reached 
the abandoned camp of the advance 
division. All was going well and a 
good start was made on the morning 
of the fourth day out. But now their 
troubles began. They had not trav- 
eled long before coming upon the 
pioneers stopped by a wide lake of 
open water. Here the entire expedi- 
tion was delayed from March 5 to 
March 11. Two men were missing. 
One had been sent back by Captain 
Bartlett to the main division and an- 
other from the main division to Cape 
Columbia. The first had missed his 
way and the second, though long due 
to return, failed to make his appear- 
ance. Great anxiety was felt by 
Commander Peary not only because 
they were good men and true, but be- 
cause they carried supplies that would 
soon be indispensable. 

But the lake had now frozen over, 
and concluding that they had either 
lost the trail or were imprisoned by 



open water on an island, Peary pro- 
ceeded northward, leaving them a 
note to push on after him by forced 
marches. Two days had passed when 
just as camp was pitched, a messenger 
came up, announcing that the missing 
men were but a day's march in the 
rear. Captain Bartlett, who up to 
this had lead the advance, now joined 
the main party, and Henson was sent 
ahead to pioneer the trail, while Dr. 
Goodsell, according to the prear- 
ranged plan, returned to Cape Colum- 
bia. That night when all were asleep, 
the two missing men, Marvin and 
Borup, whirled into camp. Next 
morning Peary awoke to another an- 
noyance. Professor McMillan's foot 
had been so frost bitten that his im- 
mediate return was necessary. 

When Henson was sent ahead on 
March 14, he was to pioneer the expe- 
dition for five marches. Imagine then 
the feelings of Peary when on March 
17, he came up with the advance 
mending their sledges. All lent a hand 
and the next morning Professor Mar- 
vin took the lead with instructions to 
make two forced marches, pitch camp 
and await the others. This he accom- 
plished, and when Peary joined him, 
a little over two hundred and fifty 
miles stretched between them and the 
pole. This was on March 19. On 
March 20, Borup supporting the sec- 
ond supporting party, turned south- 
ward, while Bartlett took up the lead 
again, followed closely by Peary and 
the body of the expedition. 

The traveling was now good and 

a new scheme was arranged which 
linked the advance and main body to- 
gether and reduced the danger of sep- 
aration by open leads. The plan was 
this : as soon as the main body 
reached the pioneer's camp, the latter 
turned out and the former took pos- 
session ; thus while one party was 
sleeping, the other was traveling, and 
communication was had every twenty- 
four hours. In this way they traveled 
until March 25, when the third sup- 
porting party under Marvin returned 
to the Cape. 

With the lessening of the distance 
the dangers increased. The snow was 
heavy and deep, and the ice quaked 
violently. Bartlett was to remain with 
Peary but a few days more, and throw- 
ing all his energy into the final effort, 
he reeled off mile after mile, doggedly 
lessening the distance, the difficulty, 
and the danger for that other man 
who was to reap the honor and glory 
of the expedition. 

The day of separation came at last. 
Sledges and harness were mended and 
Peary prepared for the dash alone. 
For the unselfish Bartlett it was hard 
to return when already the pole was 
in sight ; but the future success of the 
expedition depended as much on his 
return now as it had owed its past 
success to his pioneering the trail. 
Drawn, however, by that magnetism 
which has attracted so many to seek 
glory and honor at the pole, he left 
camp and walked northward for a 
distance of six miles. While he was 
gone, Peary selected forty of the best 



dogs and five sleds for the Captain's 
party. That night Bartlett turned 
back in command of the la^t support- 
ing party. How much he was appre- 
ciated is best told in Peary's own 
words: "When Bartlett left, I felt for 
a moment the pangs of regret as he 
disappeared in the distance. * * * 
Circumstances had thrust the brunt of 
pioneering upon him instead of divid- 
ing it among several, as I had 

To use a common expression, it was 
now "up to Peary" to make the expe- 
dition a success. What his feelings 
were at this stage of the journey are 
best told by himself. "With the dis- 
appearance of Bartlett, I turned to 
the problem before me. This was 
that for which I had worked for 
thirty-two years, for which I had 
lived the simple life, for which I had 
conserved all my energy on the up- 
ward trip, for which I had trained 
myself as for a race, crushing down 
every worry about success." 

A little after midnight of April 1 
Peary hit the trail. The air was clear, 
the wind had subsided, and the travel- 
ing was good. Here and there he 
came across pressure ridges, but these 
were easily passed. A few hours' 
sleep that night and he was off again, 
making twenty miles in a march of 
ten hours. Up and away again before 
midnight, the air crisp, the dogs trot- 
ting along merrily. When the men 
turned in that night a distance of 
twenty-five miles had been covered; 

The following inarch duplicated the 
previous one. 

April 6. Shortly after midnight all 
were in motion again, and at noon ob- 
servations indicated that forty miles 
had been travelled and the pole was 
in sight. A few hours later the sled 
runners ceased to ring over the ice, 
the dogs stopped and stood with heav- 
ing flanks, the ignorant Eskimos cast 
inquiring glances at their leader, seem- 
ing to ask the reason of the stop. But 
why go further? The pole is reached. 

Such, briefly sketched, are the expe- 
ditions of Cook and Peary. On the 
return Peary was most fortunate, for 
he was able to hold the trail all the 
way south and was delayed but a few 
hours by open leads. Dr. Cook failed 
to reach his caches, and this caused a 
year's delay, while Peary reached 
home the same year he had discovered 
the pole. It is not for us to decide 
who reached the pole first, or whether 
either of them reached it at all. The 
scientific records and data of the ex- 
plorers will have to be examined by a 
committee cognizant of such matters. 
But meanwhile let r»s take them as 
they are, and glory in the fact that it 
was an American that first reached 
the boreal center of the earth, that 
America has succeeded where other 
nations failed, and finally that two 
men undaunted by the dangers and 
perils of the trip have at last crowned 
years of hardship and" labor with ulti- 
mate success. 

H. J. Prevost, '12. 



"Ah," sighs the still sleepy Rip, 
"my dog must have gone home. I 
think I had better follow him." 

By rapid walking he soon comes to 
where he thought his house stood ; 
but the village to his half-opened eyes 
apppears to have undergone a wonder- 
ful change. Instead of the plain, 
homely cottages and the broad and 
shady street, a seemingly endless 
number of cloud-crowned buildings 
looms up before him, while in their 
midst arise tall, black chimneys tumb- 
ling clouds of smoke and soot down 
upon the rushing inhabitants. 

"Surely," thinks Rip, "this moun- 
tain dew has hurt my eyes." 

He walks on and soon finds himself 
in a street fairly alive with a promis- 
cuous throng. Bewildered is poor 
Rip ; and not without good reason, for 
gone are all the old land-marks of his 
village home and Rip for once in his 
life is lost. 

Attracted by a strange noise he 
looks above him. Instead of gazing 
upon the accustomed red of St. George 
floating from the tall village flagpole, 
he beholds a curiously compounded 
mass of iron and wood. Fascinated, 
he watches ; a boy shouts, "Elevated 
railway for Brooklyn Bridge !" and 
immediately a car filled with people 
rushes along the lofty rails. 

His eyes fatigued, he lowers them 
to the ground as he pinches himself 

to see if he be really awake. But 
here again are unlooked-for marvels, 
as in the middle of the street, instead 
of the old, common dirt he had so 
often trod, he now beholds a honey- 
comb of glass through which, gazing 
down, he sees a monstrous cave, 
flooded with light which comes from 
he knows not where. A great rum- 
bling begins, a violent commotion is 
heard as if the earth were opening to 
swallow him and lo ! with a roar and 
a shrill scream a train of cars whizzes 
by, and vanishes as suddenly as it had 
come. There Rip stands for fully five 
minutes as if rooted to the ground. 
Poor, unschooled Rip ! how little you 
know of Greater New York's under- 
ground world. 

The confused sounds of numerous 
drums and bugles causes the per- 
plexed Rip to turn his eyes from the 
mysterious subway to the fair city he 
had almost for the moment forgotten. 
There, marching before him, is an 
army of soldiers — a continuous pro- 
cession of flashing steel, prancing 
steeds, golden sashes, brilliant uni- 
forms and costly banners of all colors ; 
a peculiar combination of red, white 
and blue predominating. And now as 
he fixes his attention on the crowd, 
observes the carriages, marvels at the 
pennants, emblems and banners of the 
ever-increasing throng, he notices, to 
his still greater surprise, that all bear 



the same description-— "Hudson-Ful- 
ton Exposition." 

"Hello ! old hay-seed, where did you 
spring from?" 

Rip wheels about and for the first 
time sees to his intense mortification 
that he is completely surrounded by a 
throng of people attired in the most 
outlandish costumes imaginable. In- 
stead of the traditional knickerbockers, 
blouse-shirt, long stockings, wide col- 
lars, broad-brimmed hats, this vulgar 
crowd wears long-legged trousers, 
long coats, starched shirts, hemisphere 
hats and high collars, all of which 
helps to tangle the more Rip's already 
distracted brain. 

Helplessly he gazes at the rabble. 
Some one cries, "Let's have some fun 
with him," whereupon they begin to 
indulge in jests and rough sport. 
While undergoing this painful ordeal, 
several men dressed in blue and using 
their clubs freely break up the crowd; 
and one, taking Rip aside, advises him 
to move on down the street. He 
obeys, and saunters down the avenue 
till he comes to a vast park close by 
the river. Babel's confusion was noth- 
ing compared to this experience, so 
great is the crowd and so diversified 
the strange sounds that pierce his 
ears. The sailors from the German 
war-ships, the marines from the Brit- 
ish fleet, the gaping country folk, the 
indifferent city-bred, the sons of the 
well-to-do, and lastly poor Rip Van 
Winkle, are all mingled in one seeth- 
ing mass. At their feet roll the beau- 

tiful waters of the Hudson, on whose 
bosom innumerable craft in holiday 
attire are moving gracefully : yawls, 
launches, yachts and ships of war pre- 
sent to the long-slept eye of Rip a pic- 
ture so novel and stupendous that he 
can only stare in hopeless astonish- 

Just then a newsboy dashes by him 
shouting, "Here comes the President !" 
Soon a strange machine approaches, 
adding to the din by many a honk, 
honk! and chug, chug! while a squad 
of men in blue seem to keep guard 
about it. Standing in the car is an 
extraordinarily corpulent man. He 
continually turns about, bowing to the 
people and waving a salute with his 
black silk hat while the crowd inces- 
santly shouts, "Hurrah for Taft ! Hur- 
rah for the President!" 

When the cortege has passed, Rip 
notices that the eyes of the crowd are 
turned upwards. Following their ex- 
ample, he raises his eyes and perceives 
high in the air a huge bird with mighty 
wings extended, which holds in its tal- 
ons a cage containing a human being. 
Awe-stricken he watches it fly like a 
vulture carrying its prey ; he sees it 
pass over two vessels, the one resem- 
bling a huge box with sides bulged 
out and with strange clusters of pad- 
dles slowly revolving at either side ; 
the other, the Half Moon, similar to 
the sailing vessels he was accustomed 
to see ascending the Hudson ; and his 
eyes follow the bird until it is lost in 
the folds of the passing clouds. 



The cry of "Hurrah for the Wright 
Brothers!"' now smites the ears of the 
wondering Rip, causing him to quickly 
lower his gaze, to see what had pos- 
sessed this howling, mad-like multi- 
tude. In so doing his eyes for one 
brief moment rest on the river. To 
his great horror a boat, shaped like a 
huge cigar, which had been gliding 
smoothly over the water, disappears 
beneath the waves. Poor Rip shud- 

ders as he thinks of the pitiable death 
that must be the lot of those impris- 
oned within its walls. 

But when he sees that no one rushes 
to the rescue or even takes notice of 
the dreadful disaster, his poor heart 
fails him, his head reels, and Rip falls 
to the ground in a faint. Once more 
the old sleep is upon him. When will 
he next awaken? 

Thomas P. Hale, '11 

Ours is tl\e harvest, but tY\e seed ^as so^rf 
By t\ar(ds far sturdier tl\ar\ our oitlr\ ; 

Our good sl^ip sails irvto tt\e t\averi fair, 
But stouter pilots guided it t^ere ; 

Victory's lustre o'er our barker is s^ed, 
But tl\e battle lAias -Woi) by our r^oble dead. 

J. C. R, 




Having had the privilege of a per- 
sonal acquaintance with the Rev. 
John Bannister Tabb, and having 
been so fortunate as to be a student 
of his English class during the scho- 
lastic year of 1893-94, and being a 
Southerner by birth as was .this rever- 
end gentleman, it is with much pleas- 
ure and sentiment that I recall some 
of the many pleasant moments spent 
in his company. Father Tabb was a 
loyal American, a true Southern gen- 
tleman and a most capable man. He 
was a Virginian by birth, and a Mary- 
lander by adoption. Born at the old 
Tabb homestead, The Forest, in Ame- 
lia County, Va., he received there his 
primary education under private tu- 
tors; there he lived until the begin- 
ning of the Civil War, when he entered 
the Confederate services as Captain's 
Clerk aboard the Confederate steamer, 
Robert E. Lee, which was captured 
while doing blockade service. Father 
Tabb with the crew of the captured 
steamer, were taken prisoners and 
sent to Point Lookout, Md., where he 
met Sidney Lanier, also a prisoner of 
war. They became very fond of one 
another and together suffered the 
hardships of war, barely escaping 
death from scurvy. The ties of friend- 
ship formed between these two distin- 
guished Southerners were never to be 
broken, as is so beautifully illustrated 

in the following lines dedicated by 
Father Tabb to his departed comrade: 

Ave Sidney Lanier. 
"Ere Time's horizon-line was set, 

Somewhere in space our spirits met, 
Then o'er the starry parapet 

Came wandering here. 
And now that thou art gone again 

Beyond the verge, I haste amain 
(Lost echo of a loftier strain) 

To greet thee there." 

At the close of the Civil War, Fa- 
ther Tabb devoted himself to the study 
of music, of which he was very fond, 
and later became a teacher in Saint 
Paul's School, Baltimore. He was a 
great reader and student, and later 
took up the study of theology and 
soon began preparations for entering 
the Protestant Episcopal Church; but, 
to use his own words, which I quote 
from memory, "he felt a kindly light 
leading him gently on" — which finally 
led him to embrace the Catholic 
Faith. After due preparation for the 
priesthood, he was ordained by His 
Eminence, James Cardinal Gibbons. 
He then devoted his life to teaching, 
assuming charge of the English 
classes at Saint Charles College, near 
Ellicott City, Md., where he died, No- 
vember 19, 1909. 

Father Tabb was a most capable 
teacher of English, his methods being 

3 6 


entirely original and so easy of inter- 
pretation that no one could miscon- 
strue them. He was famous for his 
"Bone Rules," a method of his own 
which removed all obstacles that might 
arise in the fundamental principles of 
a student's English education. 

It was with pleasure that his pupils 
looked forward to that hour of class 
with Father Tabb. The lessons of the 
day over, he would devote the remain- 
ing minutes to reading or reciting 
verse from the pen of one of the poets 
whom he loved to quote. He was an 
ardent admirer of Edgar Allen Poe, 
Tennyson, Dickens, Coleridge, Shelley 
and Keats. 

Father Tabb was witty, and afforded 
the boys many good laughs during the 
breakfast hour as he passed through 
the refectory, or during his tours 
through the campus at recreation time. 
Everyone was fond of Father Tabb, 
and all sought his company when an 
opportunity presented itself. 

Father Tabb was generous with his 
contribution of poetry, not to the pub- 
lic, for he did not seek publicity, but 
to his friends who were always 
eager for what I have frequently 
heard him call his "scratchings." 
Short, indeed, were his writings, but 
always beautifully written and with 
feeling from his very soul. Even after 
suffering the loss of sight, he wrote 
the following short poem which clear- 
ly and tenderly expresses his feelings: 

"Going Blind" 
Back to the primal gloom 
Where life began 
As to my mother's womb 
Must I, a man, 

Not to be born again, 
But to remain 

And in the school of darkness learn 
What means 

"The things unseen." 

After a year's affliction from loss of 
sight, his spirit departed this life, and 
no more touching tribute could be 
paid his memory than that pronounced 
by the Rev. Father Connor in his 
eulogy of the deceased: 

"How powerless does death seem, 
in a case like this, to achieve a real 
victory. It was surely no violent 
transition by which the soul of Fa- 
ther Tabb passed from the temporal 
to the eternal. As an exiled spirit, he 
seemed to tread through paths of earth 
where most of us are content to find 
a home. 

"Father Tabb, as he will linger al- 
ways in our memory, was essentially 
a worshipper. His art was not an end, 
but a means. Poetry was with him 
not a substitute for religion, but an 
inspiration that made religion all the 
more necessary. 

"He worshipped at a thousand 
shrines, it is true — not, however, the 
god, Pantheism, but the God of faith, 
the God of revelation. His imagina- 
tion could detect God's dwelling in the 



light of setting suns, but his faith 
found a more real presence in the light 
of the sanctuary lamp. His religion 
was not a sentiment, but a service. It 
found its expression, not in beautiful 
verses but in his heroic patience, his 
touching self-denial, his absolute and 
unreserved resignation to the will of 

His resignation to the will of God is 
touchingly expressed in the following 
little poem from his own pen : 


Another Lamb, O Lamb of God, be- 
Within this quiet fold, 

Among Thy Father's sheep 
I lay to sleep ! 

A heart that never for a night did rest 
Beyond its mother's breast. 
Lord, keep it close to Thee, 
Lest waking it should bleat and pine 
for me ! 

I now recall his last words to me, 
which were : 

"And thou, though thou shouldst 
never see my face again, pray for my 

May we not pause and silently offer 
a prayer for the sweet repose of his 
spirit ! 

E. M. Ennis 

The rriagt carrie to Bethleherri, 

Tine Hoxlse of Bread ; and following therri, 

fls they the star, I too arri led 

To Christ, the living House of Bread. 

J. B. TflBB. 



$foe Hjbewnsm »f u Hjewstiag 

In the world there are many deeds 
of heroism which are never recorded. 
We are wont to think that heroic 
deeds are done only by those who are 
far away, or whose names are always 
in print or on the tongues of every 
one. And yet, gentle reader, I think 
that after reading the little story I am 
about to relate, you will agree with me 
that actions just as heroic as those 
done by so-called great men happen in 
our very midst. I shall tell it in the 
words of Father Paul, the parish 
priest of a little church in Ohio, who 
was the main actor in the touching 

One day, as I was about my usual 
duties of teaching the boys their cate- 
chism, I was interrupted by the sound 
of a struggle in the back of my little 
church. Astonished, I turned around 
and my eyes fell upon a boy of about 
twelve years of age, dressed in thread- 
bare clothes, who was being pushed 
into the church by three larger boys. 

"What does this mean?" I asked 

"This boy has been hanging around 
here every day for a week," said the 
spokesman of the three, "and as he 
was afraid to come in, we have tried 
to bring him in^by force." 

The boy stood like a wild animal at 
bay, his fists clenched, searching the 
room with a terrified glance, for some 
possible means of escape. 

"What is your name, my son?" I 
asked kindly. 

"Will, sir," he answered timidly, 
twirling his cap in his hands. 

"Are your parents living?" I asked. 

"No, Father," answered one of the 
boys who seemed to know him, "he 
ain't got no parents nor nobody to live 
with; he is just a newsboy." 

"One of life's waifs," I thought, 
deeply touched by the story of the 
poor boy, "thrown upon the wave of 
humanity, whom nobody wants, and 
whom nobody cares for, with no par- 
ents to whom he may tell his joys and 
sorrows. Oh, how hard it is to be in 
the cold world alone, and alone to 
fight the battle of life !" 

"Are you a Catholic, Will?" I asked. 

"Yes, Father," replied the boy. 

"Would you like to make your 
First Communion?" I continued. 

"Yes, Father," he eagerly answered, 
and his face lighted up with an ex- 
pectant smile. 

"Well, sit down here," I said, "and 
I will teach you all that you heed to 

That evening Will was silent, listen- 
ing to everything that was spoken, 
with his large brown eyes fixed intent- 
ly upon me, observing every move I 

The next evening he was on hand, 
dressed in a neat suit of clothes, with 
clean hands and face. From that time 


on he made great progress in his cate- 
chism. He passed his examination 
easily, and consequently was allowed 
to make his First Communion. 

I had given him a new suit of clothes 
for this happy occasion, and after he 
had made his First Communion, I 
found him a comfortable place to live 
in ; but he soon deserted it to take up 
his abode with a pious old woman who 
took him to her humble cottage, shar- 
ing her bare necessaries of life with 

Will had luckily obtained a position 
as messenger boy, and in return for 
the old woman's love, gave her the 
small salary he earned. He visited me 
whenever he had an opportunity, and 
I read to him short and instructive 
stories. As his visits continued I no- 
ticed with some anxiety a hard, hack- 
ing cough, which of late had taken 
hold of him. Granny had also been to 
see me, greatly worried about her boy. 

"I don't know what to make of my 
boy," Granny said. "At all hours of 
the night he is down on his knees 
praying. Can't you get him to play 

"I will try," I answered. 

After Granny had left, I thought 
within myself, "that lad is certainly a 
chosen soul ; how much he resembles 
a young saint, with his large, honest, 
brown eyes, opened wide with wonder 
as I read to him the deeds done by 
the noble soldiers of Christ!" 

One evening when I had just fin- 

ished reading to him the story of a 
martyr who had died for Christ, he 
looked up at me and said wistfully : 
"Father, I, too, would like to die a 

"You can," I said, "if not by the 
sword or fire, surely by loving others 
better than yourself, by sacrificing 
your own life to save others." 

It was now the latter part of Janu- 
ary and the weather was intensely 
cold. As I opened the door one even- 
ing for Will to leave, a blast of icy 
wind swept through the door, nearly 
taking us off our feet. 

"Have you car-fare?" I asked, 
drawing my cloak close around me, for 
it was a bitter cold night. 

"No, Father," the boy answered, "I 
guess I left it in my other suit ; but 
I can run and thus keep warm." 

"No," I exclaimed, "you would 
freeze on a night like this. Here is a 
nickel ; take it and be off." 

"Thank you, Father," said he, "I 
will simply borrow it and pay you 
back to-morrow." 

With this, and my blessing upon 
him, he ran hurriedly down the steps 
and was soon lost to sight in the dark- 

The weather continued bitter cold 
the next few days, and nobody ven- 
tured out of doors except in case of 
necessity. I thought no more of Will, 
being sure he had arrived home in 
safety, until I received a telephone 
message "to please come to a house 
in which some one was dying." 



The house proved to be Granny's 
humble dwelling. 

Granny met me at the door, with 
her apron over her face, crying as if 
her heart would break. 

"Who is dying?" I asked. 

"Oh, my poor boy, Willie," she said 
between sobs. "He has borrowed 
something of you, Father, and it is 
worrying him. This way, Father," 
and she beckoned me into the dying 
boy's room. 

Will did not see me at first, as I 
stood looking at him tossing feverishly 
on the bed. Every now and then a 
convulsive cough would shake him 
from head to foot. 

When he saw me, his pale face lit 
up with a smile of welcome and he 
exclaimed, "Oh, Father, I'm so glad 
to see you. I would like to go to con- 
fession and receive my Lord Jesus in 
my heart." 

After making his confession and re- 
ceiving Holy Communion he said: 
"Father , has Granny paid you the 
money I owe you? If she has not, 
she will." 

"That's all right, Will," I answered, 
"let your thoughts rest on nothing but 
God, whom you will soon see." 

After anointing him I asked: "Will, 
what did you do with the money I 
gave you?" 

"Father, I gave it to some one who 
needed it more than I did. You know, 
Father," he murmured, "you told me 

that I could die a martyr by loving 
others better than myself." 

He passed away that evening at six 
o'clock with a happy, contented smile 
on his face. 

The next day I sang High Mass 
over the remains of the little waif. A 
large gathering was present, and as, 
in my sermon, I acquainted them with 
the heroism of the little soul just gone 
to heaven, there was not a dry eye in 
the church. 

At the conclusion of the funeral cer- 
emonies, an old man with tears in his 
eyes stumbled forward and in a broken 
voice exclaimed, "It was I, Father, 
who unknowingly caused the lad's 
death. I was standing on the corner 
of the street, waiting for the car. It 
was extremely cold and I was almost 
frozen. My hands became numb and 
I dropped my car-fare in the snow. I 
was looking for it when the boy came 
along. I asked him to please help me 
look for my lost nickel. While he was 
hunting for it, the car came. I told 
him to hurry on and not to mind the 
coin or he would miss the car himself. 
He handed me a nickel and then dis- 
appeared. God forgive me, for having 
caused the death of so fine a boy. I 
would most willingly give up my own 
life for the sake of restoring his." 

"Yes," I murmured, "he gave up his 
life for you. At the age of twelve, he 
died a martyr of charity." 

Vernon Alford, 

Second Academic 



It was a great surprise to me, when 
at the close of College, I was informed 
that I was to visit Rome. Not to tire 
the reader with a detailed account of 
the trip through the other parts of 
Europe, I will endeavor to describe the 
pleasant experiences that are in store 
for every college boy, whose happy 
lot it is to visit the Eternal City. 
Eternal City it is, indeed, rising in 
solid grandeur above the seven hills. 
The stately buildings, the ancient 
churches, the mighty Vatican, all 
breathe a spirit of permanency and 

As a Jesuit College boy, two things 
became the absorbing objects of my 
curiosity. I desired to see the Pope 
and then come face to face with him, 
who holds in his right hand that by 
which the whole Jesuit Order is 
moved, their General, Fr. Wernz. 

To secure an audience with His 
Holiness, it is necessary to have a let- 
ter of introduction from some respon- 
sible citizen, to the Cardinal Secretary 
of State. This I secured and presented 
myself to the Cardinal, who gave me 
a card on which was written my name 
and address, the name of the citizen 
who introduced me, as well as the day 
and hour of my audience. 

As is well known, certain customs 
are observed by all who visit the Vati- 
can. Men wear black, and women, 
white or black, as a mark of respect 

when given an audience by the Pope. 

On the day appointed we were 
driven in a closed carriage to the Vati- 
can. Walking through numerous cor- 
ridors, all guarded by Papal soldiers, 
we at last turned into a small ante- 
room and awaited the approach of the 
Cardinal. On arriving, His Eminence 
bade us follow him through a large 
hall, magnificently decorated in a most 
luxurious style; from here we passed 
into the room where we were to meet 
the Holy Father. His Holiness soon 
entered, accompanied by eight Swiss 
Guards. The Pope was clad in a loose 
fitting robe of pure white, and wearing 
a small cap of the same color. 

His Holiness spoke a few words to 
us about America and its Catholicity, 
and then blessing us, returned to his 
private apartments. The thought that 
we had just spoken to the Vicar of 
Christ, a personage whose name and 
authority is revered by Catholics all 
over the world, held us spellbound for 
several minutes. 

The Cardinal then conducted us into 
the museum and we began alone our 
explorations of the wonders of the 
Vatican. Here we saw the master- 
pieces of the world on canvass and in 
marble, carefully preserved for the 
enlightenment of the world. 

Leaving the museum, we entered the 
gardens, where His Holiness daily 
walks with his Cardinals. By way of 



comparison, I thought of the Italian 
gardens that grace my Alma Mater, 
and though their beauty has been ad- 
mired by visitors and students for 
generations past, it seemed to me that 
they were but a faint reflection, a sug- 
gestion merely, of the beauty that was 
spread out before my eyes, when they 
first rested on the Vatican gardens. 
Here was gardening carried to perfec- 
tion. Labyrinthine walks, winding in 
graceful curves among the hedges, of- 
fer the Pope the only opportunity for 
exercise and rest in the open air. 

Leaving the grounds, we entered 
the conference chamber, wherein are 
settled the weighty questions concern- 
ing the government of the entire 
Catholic world. 

The next place of interest is the 
Cathedral of St. Peter, the most awe- 
inspiring spectacle to greet the eye of 
the visitor. The first thing to be seen, 
on entering, is the huge main altar of 
marble and gold. Here lies the body 
of St. Peter, enshrined in a casket of 
costliest metal. 

Mosaics decorate the walls and ceil- 
ings of the church, and so perfect is 
the work, that I was obliged to look 
twice before I saw it was not an oil 
painting. Greater pens than mine 
have failed to describe this wondrous 
structure. I can merely say that I 
visited St. Peter's, and let it go at that. 

Being a student of a Jesuit College, 

I naturally wished to visit the General 
of the Society of Jesus, before leaving 
Rome. Accordingly, I visited the 
German College, the residence of the 
General. I was kept waiting but a few 
moments, when the "Black Pope," as 
he is called, entered the room. 

Imagine my surprise when I beheld 
not an austere and stern man as I had 
expected, but the exact counterpart of 
my professors and prefects of old 
Spring Hill. 

Fr. Wernz conversed freely with us 
in English, and when he heard that I 
was from Spring Hill, the conversation 
turned on college life. On account of 
the ill feeling which the Roman people 
have against the Jesuits, the General 
and his staff live almost the lives of 
hermits, rarely going out of doors. So 
impressed was I by the kindness of 
Fr. Wernz, and so interested in his 
anecdotes, that when the time came to 
leave, I was loathe to depart. 

Several days later, as the train was 
leaving the city, I glanced back at the 
seven hills of Rome, quiescent in the 
light of the setting sun, and my 
thoughts turned to the great prisoner 
in the Vatican, and the other prisoner 
in the German College, and I sent a 
prayer heavenwards that the day 
might soon come when they could 
trod once more the streets of the Holy 

W. Miller, '13 

Tip Spring ^tHinn 


Students of Spring Hill College 
Spring Hill, Ala. 



All remittances, literary contributions and business letters 
should be addressed : 

5ty? g>pnngIjtUtmt, Spring IjtU GJpUege, Spring Kjttl, Ala, 






WILLIAM K. NICROSI, '10 - - - . - - JOHN J. BECKER, 'l2 


James E. Duggan, 'io Christopher H. Costello, 'io 

A Happy New Year to 
all our friends! We re- 
joice, indeed, to be with you again 
in this season of peace and cheer. 
Doubtlessly, you have noticed that we 
have donned a new attire for the Holi- 
days, which we hope and trust will 
please the most critical fancy of our 
old boys and of our friendly ex- 

Although it was, with reluctance, 
that we laid aside the beautiful design 
as well as the title of the Review, we 
felt that the rapid development of lit- 
erary and athletic work among the 
student body in general, required a 
larger and freer medium of communi- 
cation ; consequently, The Springhill- 
ian was thought to be the most appro- 
priate messenger of the welcome tid- 



ings of our college's prosperity. 
Alumni ! we are striving not only to 
uphold the high standard of merit 
which you have attained for our Alma 
Mater in former years, but, if possi- 
ble, to surpass it. 


Much discussion has been 


Many college papers have 

been steadily and persist- 
ently clamoring for a better 
college spirit: a strengthening of that 
unity of mind and purpose which may 
truly be called the stalk from which 
develop the branches and fruits of joy, 
friendship and character. We, too, 
have often made similar appeals, for, 
we regret to say, there have been 
times in the past, when the esprit de 
corps in college activities, that ele- 
ment which is most essential and de- 
sirable for honest rivalry, seemed to 
be woefully deficient; but this year 
we have every reason to congratulate 
heartily the entire student body upon 
their loyalty and excellent spirit, man- 
ifested on every occasion; upon their 
gentlemanly bearing under any and 
all circumstances; upon their kind re- 
gard for one another; and upon their 
unstinted generosity in assisting in 
the development and improvement of 
athletics. Keep it up, boys, for it is 
this, and nothing else, that sweetens 
the days of study, brightens the hours 
of recreation and leaves the deepest 
memories inscribed upon the soul, to 
be treasured and enjoyed in after life. 

raised and heavy censures 
pronounced on football during the 
present season. And not without rea- 
son. For it seems to us that a game 
which belongs to college life should 
be regulated so as to preserve and de- 
velop the physical powers without, at 
the same time, placing so valued a 
possession as human life in jeopardy. 

That the game of football does de- 
velop the physical forces by the sys- 
tematic course of training and exer- 
cise it demands, no one who has seen 
the game as played under proper 
management, can deny. Still less will 
the devotee of the game dare contend 
that risk to life and limb is eliminated 
by the present system of revised 
rules. The painful record of this 
year's injuries is still before us. 

While we are not prepared to admit 
that this form of sport is proven un- 
suitable for college boys by the acci- 
dents which have occurred — for what 
branch of open air athletics is without 
its risks? — we still hold to the belief 
that something more vital than the 
vague rules of the "Guide" is neces- 
sary to insure fair play in a game 
open to such hazards. 

We contend for three essential ele- 
ments, not guaranteed by the rules, 
but which we have found, by personal 
experience, capable of making football 
a clean, wholesome sport, viz : per- 
sonal control of games and players by 
the faculty; the excluding from the 



schedule of all team? noted for rough- 
ness or foul play; and finally, the es- 
tablishing among the student body of 
a true criterion of success in their 
games, and a higher-toned college 

As to faculty management, it is our 
opinion that, in a matter of such vital 
importance to players and parents, 
justice to both requires that the fac- 
ulty directly and at close range 
should supervise this sport. It is 
properly its place to decide what stu- 
dents are physically able to take part 
in this exercise — and none other 
should ever be permitted to enter a 
scrimmage — to determine if this or 
that team is a fair opponent, evenly 
matched in age and weight, to see 
that no foul tactics are countenanced 
by coaches or captain, to exclude from 
the squad those who cannot master 
their temper, and above all, to prevent 
a player, once he has been injured, 
from again playing before he has fully 
recovered. Without this careful su- 
pervision of the conscientious sort, the 
college athlete may be pitted against 
too strong an opponent or, carried 
away by a false fear of being frowned 
down as a coward, may be led to enter 
the list in a sickly condition, thereby 
exposing himself to serious, if not 
fatal, injuries. 

This feature has been the guiding 
spirit of football at Spring Hill ; to it, 
in large measure, is due the fact that 
the game has always been a clean, 

wholesome, and not excessively dan- 
gerous game for our boys. 

Once the faculty has taken personal 
control of football in the college, the 
first move should be to arrange the 
schedule, not with a view to extensive 
advertising, but looking rather to the 
students' well-being, providing oppor- 
tunities for wholesome exercise and 
enjoyment in contests against fair op- 
ponents. It is plainly against all 
sense of college sport for boys un- 
equally matched, especially when to 
the natural desire to win is added the 
spirit of bitterness and animosity, to 
meet in so strenuous a conflict. And 
this too often happens when the stu- 
dents are freely allowed to follow 
their own plans. For naturally reck- 
less as boys are, and impelled, on the 
one hand, by a false fear that to refuse 
a challenge is cowardice, and on the 
other, by an equally insane belief that 
by this they are heaping glory upon 
their Alma Mater — as if a college does 
not derive its fame and true value 
from something more substantial — 
they accept games with all teams 
promiscuously. Hence we often see 
young, undeveloped boys playing 
against grown men or trained ath- 
letes, banded together for a little, but 
often cruel, recreation. These men 
are as a rule under no restraint, and 
as is frequently seen, are unmindful of 
the very principles of clean sport. In 
such an encounter a boy is placed in 
real danger, and it is a miracle of 
God's providence if the young player 



is not injured. And who must bear 
the blame, but the faculty, for having 
approved of, or at least connived at, so 
unreasonable a contest? 

No wonder football has come to be 
looked upon as a crude, almost barba- 
rous form of amusement, by many 
who have had the misfortune to wit- 
ness, under the name of football, a 
brutal struggle resembling a free-for- 
all prize fight in which young college 
fellows were battling against a strong, 
rough, unscrupulous club. Such en- 
counters deserve to be abolished by 
law; they are rowdy fights, not foot- 

The principle, so sacred in moral 
education, that only the good are to be 
associated with one who is being 
trained in the virtues and habits of a 
gentleman, is especially applicable 
when there is question of the men who 
are to take the part of opponents in 
college athletics. The gentleman 
should not be thrown in with the low 
and tough element here, any more 
than he should be elsewhere. Since 
college sport is, so we understand it, 
any form of health-giving exercise 
wherein gentleman meets gentleman, 
we do not see why a team, having even 
one player who lacks these qualifica- 

tions, should not be barred from the 

Lastly, we would suggest that a 
loftier, purer idea of college spirit, 
supplanting the prevalent inane no- 
tions, would contribute much to a bet- 
ter and cleaner football. It is a sad 
mistake which college men as a rule 
are not made to realize that there can 
be honor even in defeat because of 
duty well performed ; that the players 
on a team are an honor to their col- 
lege if they do their respective parts 
nobly, fearlessly, gallantly, whether 
victory or defeat attend their efforts. 
Certainly the glory of Alma Mater is 
not augmented, nor is the spirit of the 
student body elevated by the achieve- 
ments of a team that puts victory 
above fair play, and would win it at 
any cost. 

On a prudent, careful system, based 
on the principles above noted, Spring 
Hill's athletic fabric has been con- 
structed; and the result has been most 
gratifying to faculty, students and 
spectators. Parents, before adverse 
to football, have watched the game on 
our campus and have become strong 
advocates of the sport, safeguarded, 
as it is here, by faculty supervision 
and the students' love of fair play. 




Knights of Colum- 
bus Visit S. H. C. 

% Backer, '12 

Last August Mo- 
bile was given a 
rare treat by the 
Knights of Col- 
umbus, who assembled here from all 
parts of the country for their annual 
convention. The city was in gay at- 
tire for four days. The splendid elec- 
trical illuminations and tasty decora- 
tions rivaled the fairest Mardi Gras. 
The visiting Knights paid an official 
visit to Spring Hill, and all went away 
with the opinion that the College was 
situated among the prettiest environ- 
ments they had ever seen. 

We are proud to think that many of 
our old boys figured prominently in 
the festivities. Past State-Deputy 
Matt Mahorner, A. B., '94, was the soul 
of the big enterprise, and he won new 
fame by the manner in which he ac- 
quitted himself of his arduous task. 
Mr. Mahorner was singularly honored 
in the elections which followed, being 
made a member of the National Board 
of Directors. 

Hon. George Sullivan, LL.D., '08, 
was second only to Mr. Mahorner in 
making the visit of the Knights mem- 
orable. Other S. H. C. Knights who 
distinguished themselves in the con- 
vention, were Mr. James H. Glennon, 
A. B., '97, Grand Knight; Mr. Wil- 
liam Crowley, A. B., '96, Past Grand 
Knight; and Mr. Tisdale J. Touart, 
A. B., '01. | 

8. lUtfratt, '11 

TT . On the 17th of August, 

Hymeneal _ „ , % 

in the Church of the Gesu 

attached to Marquette University, 
Milwaukee, Professor August Staub 
was married to Miss Alice Theresa 
Boyle, of Columbus, Miss., but of late 
a resident of Mobile. The officiating 
priest was to have been Very Rever- 
end C. T. O'Callaghan, D. D, V. G., 
of St. Vincent's Church, Mobile, who 
was then staying at a sanitarium ; but 
an accident prevented his attending 
the marriage, and Rev. Father Fitzger- 
ald, S. J., performed the ceremony. 
Dr. O'Callaghan is an old friend of 
both the contracting parties. THE 
SPRINGHILLIAN wishes our faith- 
ful Professor of music and his charm- 
ing wife many years of happy wedded 

On September 

2 5th, Admiral 
Semmes' Day, due 
honor was rendered to one of the 
South's greatest men. The bands 
played patriotic and martial airs, and 
a half holiday was granted. Father 
de la Moriniere, Professor of Philoso- 
phy, went to New Orleans to deliver 
a public oration before the Confederate 
Veterans. Fr. de la Moriniere is 
Ass't. Div. Chaplain, Ala., Div., of the 
United Sons of Confederate Veterans. 

_ , _ All the students were 

Columbus Day , 

& delighted when, on 

1 October 12th, the anniversary of the 

Admiral Semmes' 

4 8 


discovery of America, an opportunity 
was given them to do homage to the 
great Navigator. It brought the boys 
a holiday and a delightful entertain- 
ment, furnished by the College Band. 
Rev. Fr. President addressed the stu- 
dents, urging them to take pattern 
after the great Catholic heroes of his- 
tory, and to strive to accomplish great 
things for their country and their reli- 

Marion-M. M. I 

On November 6th, 
the Varsity squad, 
the loyal scrubs 
and both graduating classes were 
granted the privilege of witnessing 
the football game between Marion and 
M. M. I. As the former had defeated 
our boys two days before, much inter- 
est in the game was manifested. But 
the rather drooping spirits of the 
"Star" back field of Marion and their 
half-hearted playing, together with the 
extremely short halves of fifteen min- 
utes each, made the game a disap- 
pointment. But the boys had a good 
time, enjoying to the full the trolley 
ride, while they filled the air with 
their "Soiahs" for Spring Hill. 

"What Happened 
to Jones" 

Once more the 
Thespians of the 
Senior Academy 
were called upon to help out the foot- 
ball squad, and they acquitted them- 
selves nobly in a good farce, depicting 
"What happened to Jones." The 
play was given at St. Joseph's Hall, 
November 10th, before a fair-sized 

audience. The humorous theme 
started by setting the audience off in a 
laugh, which knew no interruption 
while the players were on the stage. 
All the members of the troupe acted 
their parts in perfect fashion. D. 
Moran, as Jones, J. Duggan as Pro- 
fessor, and B. Munoz as the escaped 
Indian, excelled in their respective 

Prof. F. Miller, Gymnasium Director 
of the Y. M. C. A., kindly furnished a 
specially prepared number, giving a 
splendid exhibition in tumbling and 
club swinging. He was ably assisted 
by his little son and daughter, who 
won great applause by their clever 
feats. Prof. Miller has always been a 
most gracious friend of the College. 

Bishop Allen's 

There was much ju- 
bilation when Bishop 
Allen paid his first 
visit of the scholastic year to the Col- 
lege on November 9th. He stole in 
upon the boys at table, and was met 
with a rousing cheer, to which His 
Lordship responded in a few, happy 
words of greeting and hinted at a holi- 
day which brought forth unanimous 

The Bishop took dinner with the 
faculty ; after which he was invited to 
the Portico where the College Band 
had prepared an entertainment. After 
some exquisite selections had been 
rendered, Bishop Allen spoke to the 
boys a few words of praise and en- 
couragement, wished their football 



team success, and begged them to do 
their part to retrieve the one defeat 
they had received from a stronger foe. 
This drew forth hearty cheers that be- 
came deafening when the Bishop re- 
quested a holiday for the boys, which 
was readily granted. 

his wife and daughter and other 

Governor Draper's 

Spring Hill was 
honored with a 
place on the itin- 
erary of the "Official Tour of Massa- 
chusetts Statesmen." On the 12th of 
November, a large and distinguished 
party from the Bay State, headed by 
Governor Draper, passed through Mo- 
bile en route to unveil the Massachu- 
setts monument at Baton Rouge, La., 
erected in memory of her sons of the 
army and navy who served in the De- 
partment of the Gulf, and are buried 
in and near Baton Rouge. The visitors 
had but a few hours in which to see 
the historic spots in and about Mobile. 
They drove out. to the College in car- 
riages and were met by the Rev. Pres- 
ident, who offered to have them meet 
the students and invited the Governor 
to give a short talk; but, as their stay 
was limited to about half an hour, and 
they were desirous of seeing every- 
thing about the College, no public re- 
ception was held. Spring Hill, set 
among the pines, was a revelation to 
the northerners. The Governor was 
accompanied by men of prominence in 
military and political circles, especially 
members of the Massachusetts Senate 
and House of Representatives, and by 

Old Faces 

A happy surprise was 
given to the College on 
November 18th, when 
Fr. W. J. Tyrrell, S. J ., our former 
president, and Fr. Navin, S. J., famed 
as director of senior athletics in '99, 
returned for a short visit. They could 
not find words to express their amaze- 
ment at the great changes that have 
taken place at Spring Hill since their 
last visit. The new wing, with all its 
improvements, and the beautiful 
chapel nearing completion, were reve- 
lations to them of the growing Spring 


Never did a Thanks- 
giving Day dawn on 
Spring Hill more beau- 
tiful and exhilarating than the last 
one. It was a gala day at the Col- 
lege, and after a grand "spread" in the 
refectory, all repaired to the football 
field to witness the game between the 
Fort Morgan Soldiers, and the Colle- 
gians. A great victory, in which the 
skilfully worked trick-plays of the 
boys piled up twenty points, while the 
Soldiers were stoutly held from cross- 
ing our goal line, filled the cup of our 
happiness. We were glad to see so 
many "of our old boys back to visit 
Alma Mater, and to witness one more 
of the famous Thanksgiving games. 
Among the visitors were F. Chalin, 
'09, and J. Brown, '09, from New Or- 



leans, Wallace Kevlin, '08, from Be- 
lize, B. H., and nearly all of the Mo- 
bile alumni. 

-. T , , The old custom of hon- 
our Lady s 

Feast onng our Lad y' s Im " 

maculate Conception 

by a public demonstration before her 
shrine in front of the College, was ob- 
served with great enthusiasm this 
year. Too much praise cannot be be- 
stowed upon the energetic sodalists 
who planned the decorations and so 
tastefully prepared the shrine. 

A more inspiring sight could hardly 
be imagined than the graceful statue 
of the Blessed Virgin, enshrined in a 
bower draped with smilax and palm, 
and beautifully illuminated by chains 
of incandescent bulbs, with the gray 
of the newly stuccoed chapel as a fit- 
ting background. The singing of the 
hymns must have brought joy to our 
Lady as it rose from every tongue 
and heart in full harmony. 

_ On Wednesday, De- 

Banquet to . . , J ' 

- „ - cember 1st, the Varsity 
the Squad , , 

squad was entertained at 

an Oyster Supper given by Mr. 
Charles Schimpf, Jr., '09, in honor of 
Spring Hill's recent victory over 
M. M. I. The private dining hall at 
Schimpfs Cafe was tastefully deco- 
rated in the College colors and Ameri- 
can flags, while large bunches of 
white chrysanthemums tied with blue 
ribbon, added greatly to the beauty of 
the room. The boys were unanimous 
in declaring that they had spent a 

most enjoyable evening, and all enter- 
tain the most grateful sentiments to- 
wards the host, and his kind parents 
who so ably assisted in making the af- 
fair a grand success. As they rose 
from the table, the boys gave a hearty 
"Soiah" for the generous host, and 
many more for Coach Maxon and 
Spring Hill. 

-. To all Spring- Hill bovs of 

Maxon , , * , 

... the past few years, the 

word "Maxon Night" will 
conjure up sweetest memories. This 
year the student body had no less rea- 
son for being grateful to their friend 
and helper, Mr. E. G. Maxon, who has 
piloted our Varsity through many 
successful seasons and to whom, above 
all others, we are indebted for the 
clean, wholesome athletics which have 
made Spring Hill famous throughout 
the Southern states. As we go to 
press, the boys are busy planning a 
surprise for our loyal coach ; and ere 
this is read, we trust that the students 
of '09-10 will have made clear in what 
high regard they hold their genial 
friend. Hats off, boys, to Mr. Maxon. 

All our friends are 

aware that the dam- 
age done by the fire, has been more 
than compensated for by the new and 
convenient East W T ing which has been 
furnished in the most up-to-date style. 
The new study hall, with its Tungsten 
lamps, the light and airy dormitories, 
the spacious locker rooms, and the 
lavatories finished in marble, all wit- 



ness the fact that neither care nor ex- 
pense was spared when there was 
question of the comfort or conven- 
ience of the little fellows. 

Much credit is due Messrs. Downey 
and Denham, Architects, and the Jett 
Bros. Contracting Co., who were in 
charge of these improvements. Their 
greatest achievement, however, is the 
grand Gothic Chapel now nearly com- 
pleted. At the very entrance it 
stands, rising in majesty and beauty 
above the other buildings. Its massive 
gray walls, its graceful Gothic win- 
dows, and its cross-crowned gables, 
arrest the attention of every visitor; 
and it is the candid confession of 
critics cognizant of such affairs, that 
it is a work of the highest architectural 
merit, not surpassed in the Southland. 
The workmen are busy finishing the 
interior, and it is hoped that the "Alle- 
lulias" of Easter Day will resound 
within its walls. 

'10 Class 

The feast of St. Cather- 
ine falling on Thanks- 
giving Thursday, the an- 
nual banquet of the A. B. class was 
held November 13th and that of the 
B. S. class November 27th, both at 
Schimpf's Restaurant. On each occa- 
sion, the dining hall was beautifully 
decorated in class, College and na- 
tional colors. All report having had a 
most enjoyable time. 

_. _,_ . It was a great pleasure 

Doctor O Cal- - ... 

ii_ t, « tor us to receive a visit 

laghan, V. G. , TT _ ^ ^ 

5 from Very Rev. Dr. C. 

T. O'Callaghan, V. G., shortly after 
his return from Milwaukee, where he 
had gone for his health. The Doctor 
looked quite improved, and we hope 
he will continue well for many a year, 
to watch over his beloved flock. No 
one is more welcome at his Alma 

TIie Firing ynje 

Fair visitor at game : "Oh ! they 
knocked three of your men out!" 

One who knew: "No, that's Lebeau 
stretched out at his full length." 

Who is the College Rah-Rah?— No, 
I mean beside Ball. 

Benje, from the third-story window: 
"Hey! Black, is it cold out there?" 

Black: "Don't ask me; ask some 
of those thinly clad sports. I got on 
my woolens." 

"What happened to Jones?" Oh! he 
got out of the fight all right, but the 
police must have broken up the crowd 
before they assembled. 


In their togs of white and purple, 
Stand the victors crowned with myrtle, 

Saying nil; 

While the College boys are rooting 
And the honk-honk horns are tooting 

For the Hill. 



Then the boys their "hoe pertater" 
Sing till "half-past alligator," 

Sis, Boom, Bah ! 
With a Soiah, Soiah, Soiah ! 
Varsity, we all are for you 
With a Rah ! 

What two poems studied in college, 
became famous after Marion's visit? 

Ans. "Sweet Auburn" and "The 
Village Blacksmith." 

Thanks to Diaz, our Seniors are now 
sporting about in the latest college 
styles. All they needed was a "boost" 
and a little example. 

Lebeau: "Say, Fatty, go run those 
cows off the campus." 

Firment: "Those aren't cows; that's 
the Glee Club rehearsing." 

Barber: "What style haircut?" 
Ball: "Football, of course." 
Barber: "I'm afraid there isn't 

enough hair." 

Ball: "Well, give me two bottles of 

Herpicide then." 

Ten out of every nine have 'em ; so 
Eastin still keeps his Teddy Bear. 

"Grandpa reminds me of Rip Van 

"How so?" 

"He's got a corner on the deep-sleep 
market, and he has only one awaken- 

"When is that?" 

"Every football season." 

Tirat F00tbaII ©gsler Supper 

Why an oyster supper? ask we all. 
Is't because they close upon the ball? 
Or their rivals pluck from out their shell, 
And upon the gridiron fry them well? 




Mr. John Lynch, class of 71, of 
'71 Atlanta, Ga., was here on a 

visit last September, having ac- 
companied his nephew, Mr. Claude 
Williamson, of Second Academic, who 
entered College this year. Mr. Lynch 
became a youngster again in old 
Spring Hill, and told many interesting 
stories of his teachers and schoolmates 
of over forty years ago. He spent 
several hours going over the grounds 
and commenting upon the improve- 

Dr. Rhett Goode, class of 72, 
'72 city health officer of Mobile 

and a physician and surgeon of 
wide repute, has been appointed by 
Secretary of State Knox as delegate 
from the United States to the Inter- 
national Sanitary Convention, which 
meets this year at San Jose, Costa 

Dr. Angelo Festorazzi, A. B., 
'84 '84, was a delegate from Mobile 

to the third annual convention 
of the Southern Medical Association 
held at New Orleans about the middle 
of November. 

As soon as it was decided to 
'93 rebuild the burnt portion of the 

College and inaugurate the ex- 
tensive system of improvements of 
which our handsome chapel is a spec- 
imen, the authorities cast about for a 
competent superintendent who, while 
co-operating with the architects and 
contractors, would at the same time 
safeguard the interests of the College. 
This man was found in Mr. George 
B. Twellmeyer, class of '93, of Yazoo 
City, Miss., who since last March has 
devoted all his time and energy to the 
important work to which he was as- 
signed. Thoroughly skilled in the art 
of building and furnishing, conscien- 
tious and just in all his dealings, calm 
and even-tempered in the midst of the 
most annoying circumstances, he has 
more than given satisfaction to the 
parties interested in his management 
and achieved most gratifying results. 
Too much praise cannot be lavished 
upon Mr. Twellmeyer's ability as a 

At the annual commencement 
'95 of the Medical Department of 

the University of the South, 
Sewanee, Tenn., which took place 



October 20, Mr. Joseph R. Ducote, 
A. B., '95, was awarded his diploma 
as doctor of medicine. He carried off 
the highest honors of his class. He 
had previously studied for three years 
at the Tulane Medical College, and 
took a summer course at Sewanee to 
hasten his graduation. He is practis- 
ing in Cottonport, La., his native 

The Springhillian offers its con- 
'99 gratulations to Mr. George F. 

McDonnell, B. S., '99, for the 
good work that he did in helping to 
expose the horrible slander that was 
lately perpetrated against the Church 
and her holy priesthood by the publi- 
cation and circulation through the 
Meridian, Miss., Woman's College of 
the vile leaflet entitled "One Para- 
graph from the Oath of a Roman 
Catholic Priest when Sworn into 
Office." Mr. McDonnell, District 
Deputy of the Knights of Columbus, 
with residence at Jackson, Miss., 
worked with might and main to ferret 
out and bring to book the author of 
this infamous charge ; and his efforts 
have been crowned with success. A 
full account of the work done by him- 
self and his confederates can be found 
in the late numbers of the New Or- 
leans Morning Star, especially that of 
November 13th. 

During the recent campaign 

'01 which decided the fate of the 

amendment to the Alabama 

law, Mr. Tisdale J. Touart, A. B. '01, 

who is a succesful attorney in Mobile, 
did some effective work both with 
tongue and pen for his side of the dis- 

Dr. Edward B. Dreaper, class of 
'02 graduate of the University of 

Pensylvania, has opened his of- 
fice in his native city, and during his 
brief practice has built up a numerous 
clientele. We mention with gratitude 
the fact that Dr. Dreaper acted as 
head time-keeper in some of our foot- 
ball games this season. 

We beg to acknowledge a 
'03 marked copy of the Selma 

Times of last October contain- 
ing an article on Street Paving by 
Assistant City Engineer John A. Bou- 
dousquie, A. B., '03. He strongly ad- 
vocates the superiority of creosoted 
wood blocks over all other paving ma- 
terials, being as noiseless as asphalt 
and as durable as granite. The article 
is written in a clear and logical style. 

Among the humor columns of 

'03 the N. O. Picayune, we noticed 

the following story in which 

one of our old boys, Dr. Max Touart, 

A. B., '03, figured prominently. We 

quote from the Picayune : 

Her Joke Not Yet Told 
"What's the trouble?" asked Dr. 
Touart, of Harlem Hospital, as he 
jumped down from an ambulance in 
front of a tenement house at 1885 
Second Avenue yesterday. 

"Woman with a dislocated jaw on 



the second floor," said Policeman 
Hansen, of the East One Hundred 
and Fourth Street Station, and the two 
hurried to the apartment of Mrs. Car- 
oline Dressier, who possesses a sense 
of humor. 

Dr. Touart found Mrs. Dressier sur- 
rounded by sympathetic friends, who 
were striving to put back in place a 
jaw that obviously needed adjusting. 
Mrs. Dressier was in great pain. 
"Here, come away from there," said 
the physician. 

Mrs. Dressler's anxious friends fell 
back abashed. "She was telling a joke 
and laughed," explained one. 

"And then her jaw stuck," added an- 

"And she can't tell the joke till her 
jaw's fixed," added a third; and then 
silence fell upon that room while those 
who had spoken waited expectantly. 
It was clear that that joke would never 
get out of the room alive. 

Dr. Touart worked steadily at the 
jaw for a few minutes, then there was 
a click, and Mrs. Dressier was able to 
work it up and down and sideways 
with little effort. 

"That seems to be all right," she 
said at length. A relieved murmur 
went through the room ; then there 
was silence, as every one leaned for- 

"The joke," said a voice from the 
rear, "Let her tell the joke." 

"Oh, it was such a funny joke," 
cried Mrs. Dressier. "You know. Ha 
ha. You know — " 

"Haw-haw-haw ! H-ho-ho !" inter- 
rupted Mrs. Dressler's friends. Then 
Mrs. Dressier suddenly ended the con- 
cert by giving a shriek of pain and 
falling from her chair. 

"Here," cried the physician, "shut 
up! She's dislocated her jaw again." 

He set it again and this time in- 
sured safety by sundry yards of ban- 
dage which will keep the joke bottled 
up till Mrs. Dressier gets out of Har- 
lem Hospital. 

Inquiries by a reporter last night 
among Mrs. Dressler's friends as to 
the nature of the joke elicited merely 
an exasperated snort. Harlem is sen- 
sitive on the subject of that lost joke. 
We hear with pleasure of the 

'08 success of J. E. Deegan, B. S., 
'08, in his architectural pursuits 
at the University of Pennsylvania. 

E. Escalante, A. B., '08, is studying 
medicine at Jefferson Medical College 
in Philadelphia. 

Among those reading law at Tulane 
are A. Vizard and F. Barker, both of 
A. B. Class, '08. We hear that the 
latter is spoken of as a likely candidate 
for the office of manager of football at 
the University. 

News comes to us from Jeffer- 

'09 son Medical College that last 
year's Editor-in-Chief, Jas. R. 
Garber, A. B., '09, is making a "hit" 
in medicine. James still fosters a ten- 
der feeling for his Alma Mater and 
shows great interest in every detail of 
our college life. We are proud of 
such an alumnus. 



H. C. Adams, A. B., '09, is reading 
law at St. Louis University. We are 
glad to learn that he is doing well 
and is highly pleased with his new 

Those of B. S., '09, will be delighted 
to hear that Roger Reid, '09, stands 
among the highest in his class at Mis- 
sissippi University. He is taking a 
course in engineering, and his mathe- 
matical bent is gaining for him a rep- 

Another member of the same class 
is winning honors in another field. 
Clifford E. Laborde, '09, passed a bril- 
liant examination before the School 
Board of Avoyelles Parish, La., and 
was immediately appointed Principal 
of the Public School at Hessmer, La. 


Charles Kernion, 
A. B., '83 

Mr. Charles Ker- 
nion, A. B., '83, 
went to his reward 

at Popotla, Mexico, November 18th. 

The Springhillian extends sympathy 

to his bereaved wife and family. 

R. I. P. 

John J. 

Mr. John J. Conway, of 
Jackson, Miss., spent the 
years 1904-1905 and 1905- 
1906 at Spring Hill. After leaving 
College he went into business and was 
making rapid strides on the road to 
success, when sickness set in and 
forced him to stop working. He caught 
cold last February and this developed 

into tuberculosis. He went to San 
Antonio, Denver, and finally to Cali- 
fornia in search of health, but all to no 
purpose. The deadly disease could 
not be conquered, and just as Mr. 
Conway was entering on his twenty- 
first year, God called him to Himself. 
One who had known him since child- 
hood testifies that he bore his suffer- 
ings heroically and died after having 
received all the sacraments and bless- 
ings of Holy Church. We sincerely 
condole with the mother of the de- 
parted. R. I. P. 

George F 

Everyone who was here 
at the time remembers 
little George Alvey from 
Beaumont, Texas, who spent the ses- 
sion 1906-1907 at Spring Hill with his 
brother Harry. Last July, while on a 
fishing trip with Harry at La Porte, 
he was taken suddenly and violently 
ill and was brought to St. Joseph's 
Infirmary at Houston. Here it was 
found necessary to operate on him for 
appendicitis. The doctors held out 
little hope from the start; and after 
he had lingered on for ten days, they 
thought another operation would save 
him. He was too weak to take anaes- 
thetics and submitted to the operation 
while perfectly conscious without a 
moan. He died in great agony, but 
possessed of all his senses and praying 
to the last. He was fortified with the 
last Sacraments and entirely resigned 
to God's will. He was buried in Mag- 
nolia Cemetery, Beaumont, July 30th. 



The Springhillian in the name of the 
faculty and students, proffers its sym- 
pathies to George's father and 
brothers. R. I. P. 

Dr. C. J. 


It is our sad duty to re- 
cord the death of one of 
Spring Hill's loyal friends, 
Dr. J. C. Ducote of Cottonport, La. 
He passed away the morning of Octo- 
ber 26, after having been fortified 
with all the sacraments of Holy 
Church, of which he was a devoted 
member. Dr. Ducote had been a 
State senator, president of the Louisi- 
ana State Medical Society, and one of 
the ablest and best known physicians 
of his native state. He was the father 
of Dr. Joseph R. Ducote, A. B., '95, 
the uncle of Mr. Guy G. Ducote, B. S., 
'09, and of Mr. Warren P. Ducote, and 
the grandfather of Messrs. Richard J. 
and C. S. Ducote Hebert, the last three 
at present attending the College. 

Mrs. Ellen 

Another staunch friend 
of the College went to 

her reward during the 
past few weeks. This is Mrs. Ellen 
McGrath, of Brookhaven, Miss. Her 
husband was the late John McGrath, 
who preceded her to the grave six 
years ago. Two of her sons, Martin 
and James, attended the College, the 
latter receiving the degree B. S. in 
1890. Besides Messrs. Ferdinand V. 
Becker and Jack J. McGrath of the 
class of '02, Mr. Thomas J. McGrath, 
S. J., of the class of '06, and Messrs. 

John J. and Pierre J. Becker of the 
Sophomore and Freshman classes re- 
spectively, are her grandsons. 

Funeral of 
W. M. Walsh 

The remains of Wil- 
liam Martin Walsh, 
youngest son of Jo- 
seph M. and Mary Le Blanc Walsh, 
were interred in Magnolia Cemetery 
this morning, the funeral cortege being 
very large. The funeral procession 
left the family home, No. 350 State 
Street, at 9 o'clock, and the funeral 
services were held in the Cathedral of 
the Immaculate Conception at 9:30, 
the edifice being thronged with sor- 
rowing friends of the deceased and his 
family. The funeral services included 
requiem mass conducted by Rev. Fa- 
ther Shaw, and an eloquent panegyric 
by Rev. Father Reville of Spring Hill 
College. The eulogy of the dead 
young man was most impressive and 
beautifully worded. 

The pallbearers were Messrs. E. 
Walsh, Walter Walsh, James Allen, 
John Druhan and Dr. E. B. Dreaper. 

A profusion of handsome floral de- 
signs placed on the grave attested the 
love and admiration for the young 
man. R. I. P. 

As we go to press we learn of the 
demise of Mrs. Harriet Heiter, grand- 
mother of Mr. James E. Duggan, of 
the A. B. class, business manager of 
tends sincere sympathy to the family 
in its bereavement. 






God guide thee, favored son ! I send thee forth 

All fair bedight, as olden knight, 
With virtue's shield and learning's potent sword, 

To do stout battle for the right. 

God stay thee, fearless son ! No recreant thou 

To duty's law ; but, dauntless heart, 
E'er true to man and truer still to God, 

Right nobly dost thou fill life's part. 

God speed thee, faithful son ! Thy course is run- 
Alas ! too early, men will say. 

No ! ne'er too soon can victor brave enjoy 
His guerdon— heav'n's eternal day. 

Born October 8, 1889. Died August 27, 1909 



9*« gawjes %intkut% fpwtfe 

[The following account of Dr. Booth's career is taken from the Daily Times of Los Angeles, 
Cal., October 23rd, 1909. Owing to the fact that our catalogues of the '6o's are not complete, we 
cannot ascertain the length of the Doctor's stay at Spring Hill. Again, we fail to find his name in 
the list of the graduates. The Diamond Jubilee Book records him as having entered in 1860-1861. 
This does not agree with the account given below.— EDITOR.] 

When death closed the eyes of Dr. 
James Pinckney Booth yesterday 
there passed away a kindly and lov- 
able man, eminent physician and nota- 
ble character of the Southwest, who 
had won renown as a soldier, as a 
peace officer, as a lecturer, as an edi- 
tor and as a brave fighter and con- 
queror of some of the worst scourges 
that have swept the country. 

In far-away Alabama, in Texas, in 
New Mexico and in California, in the 
mountains, on the desert and in the 
valleys, there will be mourning when 
the word is received that Dr. Booth is 
dead, called away long before his use- 
fulness had ended, for he was but 62 
years old. 

For eighteen months Dr. Booth had 
been ill, and for several days before 
the end it was seen that there was no 
hope. Schooled in all that pertains to 
physical ills, he was unable to aid the 
attending physicians in diagnosing his 
ailment, and as a last resort he was 
taken to the California Hospital, 
where for some time before his death 
he was given the tenderest care. 

Dr. Booth came to Los Angeles 
about seven years ago from Needles, 
the desert town with which he had 
been identified almost from its begin- 

ning. He made his home here with 
his daughter, Mrs. James Lawler, No. 
1220 West Sixteenth street. Four 
sons — Jerome, James, Leo and Paul — 
are residents of Needles where their 
mother is buried, and whither will be 
taken on Monday the remains of the 
father. The funeral will be held there 
at the Catholic Church, with which Dr. 
Booth was identified during his long 
residence in the little town. 

While Dr. Booth was extremely well 
known by the local medical fraternity, 
even before his arrival in Los Angeles, 
and afterward as editor of the Los 
Angeles Medical Journal, he did not 
come much into public notice until 
three years ago, when he was urged 
into the campaign for Coroner as a 
Democratic and non-partisan candi- 
date. Although practically unknown 
outside his profession and a small 
circle of personal friends, he made the 
most remarkable compaign on record, 
defeating his Republican opponent, Dr. 
Lanterman, by 2000 votes in the city 
of Los Angeles, but failing to carry 
the country precincts because he was 
not known. As it was, Lanterman 
carried the entire city and county by a 
plurality of only 847. 

It was during that campaign that 



Dr. Booth's wonderful ability as an 
orator became generally known in Los 
Angeles. It was not oratory of the 
stilted and soaring kind — just simple 
talk with heart and fun in it. He had 
an innate sense of humor and a de- 
lightful southern accent that moulded 
into a rare combination. All he had to 
do to entertain an audience was to re- 
cite incidents from his long life of ad- 

There are some who say that the 
doctor's decline began with his failure 
to carry the election. It was his first 
defeat of any kind and he felt it 

At the outbreak of the Civil War, 
Dr. Booth, then but a youth, was at- 
tending Georgetown College, Wash- 
ington, D. C. He had gone there from 
his home at Eufala, Ala., and among 
his college mates were many other 
Southern boys, as well as scores from 
the North. With several others, Booth 
went with the Confederate forces, 
joining a "flying battery" that made a 
dashing record on the field. 

After the war he entered Spring 
Hill College at Mobile, and after his 
graduation took a course in medicine. 
He first practiced his profession in the 
southern part of Texas, and in the 
early '80's removed to Fort Worth, 
where he lived a number of years. It 
was during his residence there that 
he did his first practical work as a 
newspaper man, being for some time 
city editor of the Fort Worth Gazette. 
Attracted to New Mexico in 1885, 

he engaged there in the practice of 
his profession, at the same time do- 
ing more or less newspaper work and 
taking an active interest in politics. 
He took a lively interest, too, in mil- 
itary affairs, and was among the first 
members of the First New Mexico 
Cavalry, going in as assistant surgeon 
and receiving a commission as first 
lieutenant at the hands of Gov. Shel- 

He took part in many brushes with 
border desperadoes, and when old 
Geronimo swooped down into the Ter- 
ritory with his band, Booth and his 
comrades followed the late Gen. Law- 
ton in the chase of the bad Apache, 
who finally was captured. 

While a resident of Las Cruces, 
Booth was elected to the Territorial 
Legislature, in which he served two 
terms. He also was a deputy sheriff 
during most of his stay in the Terri- 
tory, and his bravery and prowess 
with a gun were quite as effective in 
maintaining peace as were his services 
as a soldier. 

About twenty years ago Dr. Booth 
left New Mexico and settled at Nee- 
dles, this State, then but a speck of a 
town on the desert. There, when 
there were any patients, he practised 
medicine, and in his leisure moments 
* devoted himself to the publication of 
a weekly known as Booth's Bazoo, 
the forerunner of the present Needles' 
Eye. Incidentally, he took a hand in 
politics, and his ability as a writer 
and speaker was of great value to the 



Democratic party. This led to his 
nomination for sheriff of San Bernar- 
dino and he won with no difficulty, 
serving one term. 

It was while practising at San Ber- 
nardino that Dr. Booth was called 
upon to make one of the hardest bat- 
tles of his life. Smallpox had broken 
out in a most virulent form at the 
mining town of Randsburg, and the 
place seemed doomed by the scourge. 
Volunteer physicians were called for 
by the State Board of Health, and the 
first to respond was Dr. Booth. 

Going into the disease-ridden camp, 
he tenderly cared for the sick, saw to 
the burial of the dead, and then in- 
augurated a sanitary campaign that 
resulted in freeing the place of the 

For a time Dr. Booth was president 
of the San Bernardino County Medi- 
cal Society, and upon his removal to 
Los Angeles he joined the local so- 
ciety. Before his last illness he was 
professor of hygiene at the Physi- 
cians' and Surgeons' Medical College. 

Jb Nalimiafce QTIrristt. 

O Jesu, aethereo famine blandior 
Luna lucidior, sole micantior, 
Verna suavior aura 
Brumali nice purior. 

Qui te non amat, est marmore durior 
A rcto frigidior, surdior aequore, 

Inconstantior auris, 

Immanentior ignihus.' 



TOiniaro K. NitrxrsT, UO 

Football has come and gone; and 
Spring Hill has won new laurels on 
the gridiron. For this, all thanks to 
our coach, Mr. Maxon, for his pains- 
taking care which turned an inexpe- 
rienced team into a perfect Varsity 
machine, and for his far-seeing 
thought which planned a campaign 
wherein brain mastered brawn ; all 
praise to the plucky squad that learned 
its lessons well and executed them 

The prospect looked rather gloomy 
when Captain Braud first rounded up 
the candidates, and it was seen that 
our available material lacked weight 
and experience. Thus handicapped, 
Mr. Maxon took the squad hopefully 
in hand, and soon achieved results al- 
together beyond our fondest expecta- 
tions. The team he put on the field 
this year was equal to any that has 
ever represented the College; and 
though defeated in the early part of 
the season by. our old rival, Marion, 
in the later contests the players amply 
made up for deficiency in weight by 
their gameness, intelligence and per- 
fect team work. They gave many 
exhibitions of the new, open style of 

play, as spectacular as any ever wit- 
nessed on university fields. 

It is to be regretted that the game 
with Marion was scheduled so early 
in the season, as our team was just 
passing through the first stages of its 
development. Had the contest come 
off after our boys had been rounded 
into the finished form displayed by 
them at the end of the season, we be- 
lieve their skill would have prevented 
even Marion from crossing our goal 
line. We may remark that in no other 
game during the past two seasons has 
the ball been carried behind our goal 

Spring Hill 16, Cathedral A. A. 2 

On Sunday, October 31, Spring Hill 
opened her football season. With only 
a few days of practice, the Varsity 
met the Cathedral Athletic Associa- 
tion and came off with a victory. The 
game was played to give the coach a 
line on the new players and to put the 
Varsity through some kind of a fray 
before meeting Marion. 

In the first half C. A. A. made a 
touchback on the kick-off. Spring 
Hill did not score till the second half, 



when in quick succession she made 
three touchdowns before the game 
was called. 

Spring Hill 0, Marion Institute 14 

(From the Mobile Register of No- 
vember 5th.) 

On Gonzaga field yesterday the 
football warriors of Spring Hill and 
Marion met in a hard fought game. 
The Hill team fought their rivals 
every inch of the field, only to go 
down in defeat before the heavy line 
plunges and swift end runs of the 
Gold and Black by a score of 14 to 0. 
Spring Hill's team is exceptionally 
light this year in comparison with the 
teams of former years. Still the boys 
upheld their reputation as game 

Marion came to town determined to 
blot out the defeat of last year with a 
victory, and she succeeded. Their 
team outweighed the Collegians fif- 
teen pounds to the man. Credit must 
be given to Heath for his line plung- 
ing, and to quarterback Graves for his 
good generalship. The Marion team 
as a whole played good and consistent 

For Spring Hill, Captain Braud 
was the bright, particular star. Time 
after time he stopped Marion's line 
plunges, and he himself carried the 
ball for gains through the opponents' 
line. Pardue's punting helped greatly 
towards keeping down the score. In 
the second half, Spring Hill lost the 

services of Becker who went out of 
the game only at the command of 
Coach Maxon, after he had been in- 
jured. While he was in the game, he 
repeatedly threw the Marion backs for 
losses. B. Dolson also played a mag- 
nificent game at end. 

Marion was penalized for a total of 
65 yards for holding at various times. 
Spring Hill was penalized only once, 
for off-side play. 

The line-up of the two teams: 


Frederic, Black C Manning 

Lebeau R.G Dean 

Dncote R.T Savage (Capt.) 

B. Dolson R. E Jackson 

Lavretta, Frederick. ..L. G Stewart 

Turregano ..L. T Koppius 

Becker, Kevlin L. E Finnell 

Pardue Q. Graves 

J. Dolson R. H Wynne 

Bauer L. H. Shackleford 

Braud (Capt.) F. B Heath 

Summary — Referee, Dr. Madler. 
Umpire, Mr. Carter. Head Linesman, 
Mr. Walsh. Time-keeper, Dr. Dreaper. 
Touchdowns, Heath — 2. Drop-kick — 
Graves. Time of halves, 25 minutes. 

Spring Hill 17, Mobile Military Insti- 

Thursday, November 18, for the first 
time in the football annals of Spring 
Hill, our Varsity met the Mobile Mili- 
tary Institute on the gridiron and 
came off victorious. Spring Hill has 
refused to play M. M. I. in the past 
on account of the stand taken by the 
College against preparatory schools. 



This year, however, on account of the 
victory of Marion over Spring Hill 
and the no-score Marion-M. M. I. 
game, the College was induced to play 
M. M. I. It seemed only fair that a 
team so gritty, should be given a 
chance against a stronger foe. If ever 
there were doubts in the minds of the 
followers of the gridiron as to the 
superiority of either team, it was 
swept away in this game. With the 
precision and nonchalance of a regi- 
ment in review, the Collegians downed 
their rivals. Careful and confident at 
all stages of the game, they handled 
their opponents with ease. 

In twenty-five and twenty-minute 
halves, the College made three touch- 
downs and kicked two goals for a 
total of 17 points. All the scoring 
was done in the second half. In the 
first, the College had the ball within 
six inches of Mobile's goal with yet 
another down, when time was called. 
Pardue was forced to punt three 
times, and did so for a total of 115 
yards. In this half Spring Hill used 
none of her formation or trick plays 
except in the last few minutes, when 
she twice worked the forward pass 
successfully for a gain of 65 yards just 
before time was called. The Colle- 
gians came on the field in the second 
half determined, at all hazards, to 
score. That they could do so became 
evident as, one after another, the boys 
pulled off their plays for good gains 
until, when the last whistle blew, 

they had crossed M. M. I.'s goal three 

Throughout, Spring Hill's backs 
and ends were fast; they executed the 
intricate trick plays and end runs of 
Coach Maxon's invention with the 
smoothness and perfection of a well 
adjusted machine. The line worked 
like Trojans, making openings when- 
ever required, and was invincible as a 
stone wall to the plunges of the Mili- 
tary boys. M. M. I., on the other 
hand, played sluggishly at times. Dur- 
ing the game they showed brilliant 
streaks, but poor physical condition 
held them back. 

During the second half, Spring Hill 
used her formations and trick plays 
with great success. J. Dolson kicked 
off at the beginning to Naylor on the 
fifteen-yard line, who returned it four- 
teen yards. M. M. I. here made first 
downs twice, placing the ball on the 
fifty-yard line. Here Spring Hill held 
them. Pardue on the College's third 
down, with six yards yet to go, tried 
an on-side kick which worked success- 
fully, being recovered by J. Dolson 
who ran for a touchdown. J. Dolson 
kicked an easy goal. Cleveland kicked 
off to Bauer, who ran it up to the fif- 
teen-yard line, where, after a series of 
brilliant end runs and line plunges, 
B. Dolson carried it over M. M. I.'s 
goal line on an end run. J. Dolson 
missed goal. Cleveland kicked off to 
Capt. Braud on the five-yard line, who 
ran it back twenty yards. From here 
on, Braud and his halfbacks repeatedly 

1. Forward Pass in Marion game. 2. B. Dolson making touchdown in M. M. I. 
game. 3. Capt. Braud bucking M. M. I.'s line. 4. Cross buck against Soldiers. 

5. Our Coach and Captain. 



plunged through M. M. I.'s line, never 
failing to make a first down till Braud 
carried the ball over for the third 
touchdown. J. Dolson kicked goal. 

For M. M. I., Cleveland and Barrett 
played good ball. Barrett outplayed 
Cleveland. The latter, though put- 
ting up a good game, did not play up 
to his much-heralded reputation. 

Captain Braud and the two Dolson 
brothers were the stars for Spring 
Hill ; Braud doing the bucking, while 
the Dolsons shone in brilliant end 
runs. B. Dolson made his touchdown 
by running sixty-five yards behind the 
prettiest interference of the season in 
which Schimpf, Lebeau, Ducote, 
Bauer and Braud figured. Bauer 
played a splendid game at half. "Big 
Ed" Lebeau was again the strong man 
in the line, distinguishing himself in 
every play. Pardue showed good 
generalship, and ran his team in fine 
style. McHardy, a new man, played 
like a veteran, showing some pretty 
open field running. 

Line-up : 

Spring Hill Mobile Military Ins. 

Black C Marshall 

Lebeau R. G. Louselle 

Frederic L. G Inge 

Schimpf L. T._ Barrett 

Ducote R. T Cleveland 

B. Dolson R. E McLeod 

McHardy L. E Hieronymus 

Pardue Q. Overton (Capt.) 

Bauer L. H R.Marshall 

J. Dolson R. H King 

Braud (Capt.) F. B Naylor 

Summary : Touchdowns — J. Dol- 
son, Braud. Goals from touchdowns 

—J. Dolson (2). Referee— Mr. Bar- 
ney (Va.). Umpire — Mr. Burkes 
(Ala.). Head Linesman — Dr. Dreap- 
er (U. of P.). Time of halves— 
twenty-five and twenty minutes. 

Spring Hill 49, South Miss. 

On Saturday, November 20th, 
South Mississippi College of Hatties- 
burg again invaded Spring Hill's 
football territory. With only a day's 
rest after the M. M. I. game, the Var- 
sity trotted on the field with every 
man in his place. The weather was 
ideal for football and a fair Saturday 
afternoon crowd was on the side 

The game started off fast and 
promised to be interesting. However, 
it turned out before long to be some- 
what farcical. For the most part 
Spring Hill had possession of the ball 
in Mississippi's territory. Working 
their trick plays with success, plungr 
ing the line with ease, and throwing 
their forward-passes for gains which 
netted a total of 245 yards, the Purple 
and White ran at will through old 
"Mississippi." Only once was Spring 
Hill compelled to punt. It was in the 
first half, after two unsuccessful at- 
tempts at the forward-pass had been 
made that Pardue booted the ball 45 

A few pounds lighter, and relying 
on the old style football, Mississippi 
never made a first down. Gritty and 
working hard up to the last minute 



of play, they won the unstinted ap- 
plause of the spectators. The game 
was so one-sided that no one player 
can be said to have starred. 
Line up : 

Spring Hill South Mississippi 

Black... C. Vanze 

Lebeau R. G Howe 

Frederic, Munoz L. G Meeks 

Schimpf L. T A. Howe 

Ducote R. T Williams 

B. Dolson R. E Fall 

McHardy, Mistric L. E Martinolich 

Pardue __Q Miller 

Bauer L. H Humane 

J. Dolson R. H.-.Sumerall (Capt.) 

Braud (Capt.) F, B Sumerai 

Referee — Mr. Barney. Umpire — 
Mr. Cole. Field Judge— Mr. Madler. 
Head-linesman — Mr. Nelson. Time- 
keeper — Mr. McCreary. Touchdowns 
—Braud (2), J. Dolson (1), B. Dol- 
son (2), Ducote (1), Bauer (1), Kev- 
lin (1), Mistric (1). Goals, J. Dol- 
son (1), Pardue (1). Time of halves, 
25 minutes. 

Spring Hill 20, Fort Morgan 

Our annual Thanksgiving Day 
game with the Fort proved to be one 
of the best on our campus this year. 
The Soldiers, our most feared rivals, 
went down in defeat to the tune of 
20 to 0; thus the Varsity brought to 
a close with a splendid victory a most 
successful season. Uncle Sam's boys, 
averaging about 160 pounds to the 
man, were considered sure winners 
against the light Collegians. But the 
new style of play enabled the Col- 
lege's wily ends and backs to run at 

will around the artillery men. Max- 
on's now famous defense was a puzzle 
to the charges of the Fort. With 
guards drawn out to the position of 
the tackles, the tackles and halves 
behind the guards ready to hurl them 
into the opposing forwards, the line 
left open from tackle to tackle with 
the exception of the center, it seemed 
an easy thing for the soldiers to gain 
through the line. But with the snap 
of the ball the guards, as if shot from 
a catapult, would go plunging against 
the attack and tear the soldiers' line 
to pieces. The biggest crowd of the 
season was out to witness the game. 
The side lines were jammed from goal 
to goal. Among the rooters for 
Spring Hill were many of the old boys 
who had come back for the gala day. 
Conspicuous among them for his lusty 
cheering, was "Crack" Brown, B. S. 
'09, of baseball fame. 

The game throughout was well 
played and fast. Working their for- 
ward-passes with success, and gain- 
ing on end runs, Spring Hill took the 
game well in tow at the very begin- 
ning. From tackle to tackle, they 
played with a determination and grit 
which would make any admirer of the 
game glow with enthusiasm. Lebeau, 
as in other games, was the mainstay of 
the line. Weighing 175 pounds, he 
exerted all his energy to bring victory 
to the Purple and White. Frederic 
and Black, although much lighter than 
Lebeau, were gritty and game 
throughout and handled their oppo- 



nents with equal ability. Ducote and 
Schimpf also played magnificent 
tackles, stopping the heavy plunges of 
the Army. The game in detail : 

First half: Capt. Braud wins the 
toss and chooses the north goal. 
O'Connell kicks to J. Dolson on the 
five-yard line who brings it back to 
the twenty-yard line. Here, after 
three minutes of play in which Spring 
Hill makes first down three times, B. 
Dolson, on an end-around-end play, 
runs 25 yards for a touchdown. J. 
Dolson, on punt-out for placement, 
fails. J. Dolson kicks to Guyker on 
the 35-yard line, who returns it 12 
yards. Failing to make their downs, 
O'Connell punts for 25 yards to Par- 
due. On forward pass to Schimpf, 
Spring Hill puts the ball in striking 
distance of the Soldiers' goal. After 
two unsuccessful attempts to gain, 
Pardue drop-kicks a goal from the 
25-yard line. J. Dolson kicks' to 
O'Neil, who is downed in his tracks. 
The first half ends with the ball in the 
Soldiers' territory. The score, 8 to 0. 

Second half: Mistric is substituted 
for McHardy and plays a fine defen- 
sive game. J. Dolson kicks a low one 
for twelve yards which is recovered 
by B. Dolson. After several plays in 
which the College has worked the ball 
nearer and nearer to the Army's goal, 

J. Dolson fumbles on a trick-forward- 
pass which was recovered by Davis. 
Here the Soldiers start in a proces- 
sion down the field, seemingly for a 
touchdown. But the Purple and 
White, in the shadow of their goal, 
holds firmly and O'Connell, after 
two futile attempts on the part of the 
Soldiers to carry the ball, tries a 
drop-kick that goes wide. Spring 
Hill puts the ball in play on the twen- 
ty-five-yard line. On the first down 
J. Dolson rips off five yards around 
end. On the next play B. Dolson 
catches a forward pass and runs 85 
yards for a touchdown, showing 
splendid form in broken field running. 
J. Dolson kicks goal. Score, 14 to 0. 

J. Dolson kicks to O'Connell on the 
five-yard line, who runs back five and 
is downed with a beautiful tackle by 
Mistric. The Soldiers succeed in 
making their downs several times. In 
the middle of the field Spring Hill's 
line holds and the ball goes over. On 
a forward pass, J. Dolson runs 45 
yards for a touchdown. J. Dolson 
kicks goal, and the game is over. 
Score, 20 to 0. 

The Spring Hill back-field showed 
the qualities of play which have char- 
acterized their game this season, 
namely alertness and aggressiveness. 

For the Soldiers, O'Donnell, O'Neill, 
Christensen and Sharp were the stars. 
Several times O'Donnell and O'Neill 



ploughed through the College line for 
good gains. 
The line up: 

Spring Hill Fort Morgan 

Black C- Whitney 

Lebeau R. G Guyker 

Ducote R. T Hogan 

McHardy, Mistric R. E Kolerson 

Frederic L. G Wyate 

Schimpf-J L. T Sharp (Capt.) 

B. Dolson L. E Davis 

Pardue Q Christensen 

J. Dolson R.H O'Connell 

Bauer L. H O'Neil 

Braud (Capt.) F. B O'Donnell 

Summary : Umpire — Dr. Madler. 
Referee — Mr. Barney. Field Judge — 
Dr. Rush. Time Keeper— Mr. Mc- 
Creary. Head linesman — Robertston. 
Touchdowns — J. Dolson (2), B. Dol- 
son (1). Goals from touchdowns — J. 
Dolson (2). Drop kick — Pardue. 
Time of halves — twenty and fifteen 

Basket Ball. 

At last it seems as if basket ball will 
get a new foothold in Spring Hill. 
Neglected for the past two years, it 
has again sprung into popular favor. 
Forty-seven candidates are out for 
positions. Six teams have been or- 
ganized, and from them will be picked 
the Varsity quintette. The manage- 
ment hopes to arrange games with the 
best of the neighboring teams, and 
some lively contests are promised on 
the local court. 

;tmi0¥ g&mmts 

% «P. Nmslwm, '12 

. Almost immediately upon 
the return of the student 
body from vacation the leagues were 
organized. Notwithstanding the fact 
that several of the best players de- 
serted their colors by going over to 
the Senior Division, it would have 
been hard to find a better team than 
those of the First League. A series 
of games was arranged, the result of 
which was to decide the "orange'' 
question ; however, on account of fre- 
quent discussions between the captains 
and members as to the equality of the 
sides, and an early leaning towards 
the gridiron game, only two weeks 
were devoted to the national sport. 
This short period afforded time for 
several good games, and for a few 
players to show exceptional ability. 
I<eBaron, Braud and Cummings de- 
serve praise for their good all-around 
work, as do the others in a lesser de- 
gree. The line up was as follows: 

Reds Blues 

Mclntyre (Capt.) P Trolio 

Cummings C Orsi 

Braud i B Holland 

Needham 2B Harkan 

Butts 3- B Webre 

LeBaron S. S Kelly (Capt ) 

Herbert C. F M. Wohner 

Hale L. F Potter 

Dowe R. F. Touart 

G. L. Mayer, Scorer. 














A second league was organ- 
ized under Barker and 
Chappuis, but the best 
players were drafted to the First 
League ; which fact weakened the 
teams considerably, and as a conse- 
quence, diminished the glow of enthu- 
siasm which had characterized it from 
the start. 


The members of the Junior 

Varsity, as well as their 
coach, deserve praise for their untir- 
ing efforts, crowned towards the end 
of the season with success. In sev- 
eral games against the Big Yard, they 
displayed a great amount of grit and 
ended their season with a glorious vic- 
tory over their heavier opponents by 
a score of 16-5. On Thursday, Nov. 
11th, a very interesting game of foot- 

ball was played between the Junior 
Varsity of S. H. C. and Mobile Mili- 
tary Institute. The teams were evenly 
matched, though the Taylor boys 
were somewhat heavier, and a fierce 
gridiron battle was fought throughout. 
The features of the game were Roca's 
brilliant end run for a touchdown, the 
line-bucking of Needham, Broussard's 
sensational tackle, back of M. M. I.'s 
line, preventing the completion of a 
forward pass, and M. M. I.'s good 
work during the second half. At the 
end of the first half the score was 
11 to against them, but by consist- 
ent tackle over tackle bucks, in the 
latter part of the game, they tied the 
score. Spring Hill played a brilliant 
game in every particular, but on ac- 
count of lack of weight, were unable 
to gain consistently enough to score 
again during the second half. 



V. VL TOhIsIt, '10 


The Academy opened up 
this session with bright 
prospects for the year before it. Ten 
of last year's members were present 
at the first meeting, and decided that 
the number of members should be 
limited to twenty. They were of the 
unanimous opinion that, by lessening 
the number of members, the standard 
of literary work could be better pre- 
served and more fruitful results, ob- 
tained. Many of the meetings have 
been devoted to the hearing of excel- 
lent essays and well rendered decla- 
mations of those striving to gain a 
place among the "fortunate twenty." 
On account of the postponement of 
several of the meetings, no debates 
have yet taken place, but many sub- 
jects for discussion have been pro- 
posed which will be taken up after the 
holidays. Fr. Fazakerly has suc- 
ceeded Fr. Guyol as director, and the 
following staff of officers was elected : 
W. K. Nicrosi, Pres. ; J. T. Becker, 
Sec. ; J. E. O'Flynn, Censor. 


The cosiest little room in 
the College is undoubtedly 
our library with its equipment of new 
book cases, and current magazines. 

The officers showed their lively inter- 
est for the members' welfare when 
they provided that new stove, which 
affords warmth and comfort to those 
who, to avoid the cold blasts and to 
enjoy a quiet read, spend much of 
their time in the library. In the large 
rocking chairs, drawn around the fire, 
can always be seen busy readers, thus 
putting to profit their leisure hours. 
We cannot but praise the care and in- 
terest which has been shown by the 
officers in charge. They are — J. Dug- 
gan, Pres.; S. Braud, V.-Pres,; J. T. 
Becker, Censor; H. M. Costello, Li- 

The Senior gymnasium 
of Spring Hill College is 
one of the best equipped gymnasiums 
in the South. Our perfect has done 
much to encourage the class work now 
carried on under the capable direction 
of Prof. Tinsman of the Mobile Y. M. 
C. A. Although he has only been with 
us for a short time, he has already be- 
come very popular among the stu- 
dents, by his interested and untiring 
efforts in their behalf. 

The officers who are exerting every 
effort in the interest of gymnasium 
work are — P. Turregano, Pres. ; E. 





Kevlin, V.-Pres., W. Walsh, Sec. and 

The billiard room is as usual 
the spot most frequented by 
the senior division, now 
the football is at an end. Equipped 
with fine tables, both billiard and pool, 
it affords excellent opportunities for 
spending agreeably the long, idle 
hours. The club has been placed un- 
der excellent management. 

The officers, J. L. Lavretta, Pres. ; 
and J. T. Becker and S. Pardue, his 
able assistants, have done much to- 
wards preserving that order and reg- 
ularity which gives each member equal 
opportunity to display his ability in 
handling a cue. 

H. ?U. ffeHg, '11 

The sodality, under the new 
1 y Director, Fr. McDonnell, 
who has replaced Fr. Guyol, our Rev- 
erend Director of some years past. The 
latter has been called to the College 
of the Immaculate Conception in New 
Orleans, whither our good wishes ac- 
company him. Fr. McDonnell shows, 
by the excellent instructions he has 
given, that he is a worthy successor 
of so capable a director as Fr. Guyol. 
Following an election in the early 
part of September, these officers were 
placed in charge : P. Braud, Prefect ; 
W. Walsh, 2nd Asst. ; C. Frederic, 1st 
Asst. ; W. Nicrosi, Sec. 

, The band, under the able di- 
rections of Mr. Higgins and 
Professor Staub, has on several occa- 

sions rendered, with merited success, 
difficult selections. The boys gave a 
delightful entertainment to Bishop 
Allen of Mobile during his visit to the 
College. Moreover, the various 
monthly exhibitions have been made 
doubly enjoyable by the exquisite 
rendition of classical music. We hope 
to be treated to many more concerts 
during the year. 

The officers elected are : J. L. Lav- 
retta, Pres. ; B. Dolson, Sec. and 
Treas. ; D. Neely, Librarian. 


The sweet strains of the 

College Orchestra has 
been the source of much pleasure to 
us at our monthly gatherings. Prof. 
Staub, with the support of Prof. Suf- 
fich, has succeeded in filling up the 
vacancies, caused by graduation of 
some of last year's musicians, and has 
not ceased to maintain the same high 
standard set by the fine orchestras of 
previous years. 

The boys won much applause by 
the excellent programme presented at 
St. Joseph's Hall, Mobile, which they 
executed with remarkable skill on the 
occasion of the Thespians' play, 
"What Happened to Jones." 


Owing to the present incon- 
veniences, caused by the fire, 

the choir has been unable to 
show its ability to any great extent. 
They are, however, consoled by the 
knowledge that the new chapel will 
soon be in readiness, where their tal- 
ent will have full scope. We must 



praise the earnest spirit with which 
they carry on their practices, and we 
heartily congratulate them on the new 
Benediction hymns they have intro- 
duced this year. 

Th S d li ° n ° ctober 10th ' 1909 < 
The Sodality of the 

Blessed Virgin had a reception of 
new members who had been candi- 
dates since the latter part of the pre- 
vious year, and again on December 
8th ; some more candidates were ad- 
mitted, who, since the beginning of 
the year, had shown themselves 
worthy of admittance by their piety 
and devotion at all times. The candi- 
dates and members of this Society can 
be distinguished from the other boys 
by the little blue badges and medals 
of the Blessed Virgin which they 
wear, and which were made especially 
for them by the Sisters. This choice 
little band is doing lots of good work, 
and already the boys of the yard have 
begun to pluck the fruit from the tree 
of edification, the Sodality of the 
Blessed Virgin Mary. F. Meyer is 
Prefect, G. Mayer, Asst. Prefect; T. 
Hale, Secretary ; C. Holland, Asst. 
Secretary ; C. Touart, Sacristan, and 
F. Dowe, Asst. Sacristan. 

Junior Band, 

The degree of excel- 
lence to which the 
Junior Band has at- 
tained during these few past months 
has astonished both faculty and stu- 
dents. The combined efforts of Mr. 
Bassich and Professor Suffich, to- 

gether with the musical enthusiasm of 
the members, have certainly produced 
a happy effect. The deficiency of old 
members, caused by the transferring 
of several of last year's men to the 
Senior Division, has been fully sup- 
plied by new members who are equal 
to their predecessors in skill. 

_.,,, , At last the Junior Division 
Billiard . , .„. i , , 

_ has a billiard room. It has 

Room , . 

been the ardent longing of 

the Juniors to possess an equipment 
like the Seniors, and to our great joy 
and satisfaction (perhaps also to the 
envy of these latter), the new wing 
with its commodious apartments has 
fully satisfied our fondest expecta- 
tions. "Professor" Hale keeps the 
members pretty straight and tolerates 
nothing but the most gentlemanly 
conduct under all circumstances. 
Some of the members are becoming 
"stars" at the game, and handle the 
cue with a deftness that reminds one 
of a Sutton or a Demarest. Some one 
has remarked that this rapid improve- 
ment shown by the Junior "cuesters'' 
is evidently due to the expert coach- 
ing of Prof. Hale and to the helpful 
pointers of little Willie Barker. 


The Junior Literary So- 

ciety of 1909. under the 
guidance and by the earnest efforts 
of our Rev. Director, President Hale, 
Secretary Mayer and Censor Touart, 
has achieved much during these few 
short months ; and so contagious is 
the enthusiasm spreading amongst the 



members, that bright hopes are eater- 
tained of making, before the end of 
the year, great strides towards liter- 
ary fame. Carefully prepared pro- 
grammes are arranged and scrupu- 
lously carried out at each meeting; a 
method of proceeding which has added 
much pleasure and interest to our 
weekly gatherings. The high quality 
of the essays and stories read, and 
declamations delivered, argues well 
for the future success and prosperity 
of the Academy. Some of the mem- 
bers have given promise of some day 
becoming great essayists, while others 
are already old heads at declaiming. 
There will be no half-session play on 
account of the disaster of last year 
which swept away our exhibition hall, 
but the members are hoping to be able 
to give one in town before the year is 
over, and indeed there is no lack of 
dramatic talent for it, as our officers 
can testify. 


The cosy little library, sit- 

uated in the basement of 
the new East Wing, amply compensa- 
ted for the loss of the one of last year 
which was destroyed by the fire. It 
is proof against the northern blast, the 
pelting south rains and all kinds of 
inclement weather. Even on warm 
days when there are lots of games to 
be played, and there are other forms 
of amusement in the yard, the literary 
taste of some of the members draws 
them into the library, and ofttimes you 
may see them wrapped up in some 
thrilling novel, or extracting useful 
knowledge from some historical work. 
The rules are strictly carried out and 
order admirably preserved under F. 
Meyer as President, C. Touart as 
Vice-President, H. Lawless as Treas- 
urer, and J. Martel and J. Rives as 

F. Meyer is President, D. Braud, 
Secretary, and C. Touart, Treasurer — 
a trio of musicians such as make the 
Seniors envious. 



' ' There 's so much bad in the best of us, 
And so much good in the worst of us, 
That it scarcely behooves any of us, 
To talk about the rest of us. 

— R. L. Stevenson. 

When the burden of Exchange Edi- 
tor was first placed upon our weak 
shoulders, we were full of misgivings, 
realizing as we do, the difficulty of the 
task imposed. For, optimists though 
we be, and inclined to praise rather 
than to censure, we believe it a part of 
our orifice to pass impartial judgment 
on the literary work, as it comes to us 
in the various college papers which 
find their way into our Sanctum, even 
though it should become necessary, at 
times, to find fault. We sincerely 
hope that the good feelings existing 
between our contemporary Exchange 
Editors and ourselves, will be welded 
stronger by this mutual intercourse. 

The Agnetian Quarterly contains a 
beautiful panegyric on Joan of Arc, 
and a few moments spent in its peru- 
sal will not be amiss. 

f . %. Txtrr*ga;tt0 t *10 

The November Sentinel, from St. 
Mary's (Ky.) is devoted chiefly to 
football. Poetry and fiction are want- 
ing in this number, but it is not quan- 
tity that counts, but quality. It con- 
tains one very good article, viz : 
"Shall college athletics be encour- 
aged." It is a good step in favor of 
our American college games. 

"God— Our Father," is the title of 
the opening poem, in the Niagara In- 
dex for November. The lines possess 
a sweet, rythmical melody, and con- 
tain many rich gems of thought. The 
author may well be proud of his 

From the orange-scented air of Cal- 
ifornia, comes the Saint Vincent Stu- 
dent of Los Angeles. One of the best 
articles we read in this very interest- 
ing magazine was "The Novel," an in- 
teresting theme written in a pleasing, 
forceful style. 




Among the other most welcome vis- 
itors to our Sanctum are : Agnetian 
Monthly; Fleur de Lis; St. Mary's 
Sentinel; St. Mary's Chimes; The 
Redwood ; Fordham Monthly ; The 
Columbia ; Georgetown Journal ; Lo- 
retto Crescent ; St. Ignatius Collegian ; 
Niagara Index; The Mercerian; Man- 
galore Magagzine; St. John's College 

Quarterly; Our Alma Mater; Mun- 
gret Annual; The Mercury; St. An- 
gela's Echo ; The Clongownian ; Estu- 
-lios de Deusto ; The Mountaineer ; 
The Record; The Xaverian ; The 
Morning Star ; The Academy Review ; 
The Xaverian (Melbourne) ; The Bes- 
sie Tift Journal; The Angeline Quar- 
terly ; The Alumnus ; The Columbia 
(Fribourg) ; The Polaris. 


Spring Hill College 

Mobile, Alabama 

CPR1NG HILL COLLEGE is built on rising ground, five miles distant from 
MOBILE, and elevated one hundred and fifty feet above the sea-level. It enjoys 
a constant refreshing breeze, which renders its situation both agreeable and healthy. 
The surrounding woods afford the most pleasant summer walks. A never failing 
spring at the foot of the hill, and within the College grounds, furnishes an abundant 
and lasting supply of water to the beautiful lake where the students may safely 
enjoy the beneficial exercise of swimming. Long experience has proved that, owing 
to its position, the College is entirely exempt from those diseases which prevail at 
certain seasons in the South. 

The College was incorporated in 1836 by the Legislature of Alabama, with all 
the rights and privileges of a University, and empowered in 1840 by Pope Gregory 
XVI to grant degrees in Philosophy and Theology. 

The Directors of the institution are members of the Society of Jesus, which, 
from its origin has devoted itself to the education of youth. They will endeavor to 
show themselves deserving of the confidence reposed in them by evincing on all 
occasions a parental solicitude for the health and comfort of those entrusted to their 
charge, by sparing no pains to promote their advancement and by keeping a careful 
and active watch over their conduct. The exercise of their authority will be mild 
without being remiss, in enforcing the strictdiscipline and good order so essential for 
the proper culture of both mind and heart. By this two-fold education, which is 
based on Religion and Morality, they will exeri all their energies not only to adorn 
the minds of their pupils with useful knowledge, but to instil into their hearts solid 
virtue and a practical love of the duties which they will have to discharge in after 

The public worship of the institution is that of the Catholic Religion, however, 
pupils of other denominations are received, provided that, for the sake of order and 
uniformity, they are willing to conform to the exterior exercises of worship. 

The plan of studies is established on a large scale, and is calculated to suit not 
only the wants but the progress of society. It consists of three principal courses 
under the name of PREPARATORY, ENGLISH and CLASSICAL. 

French, German, Spanish, Italian, form separate courses are optional, and are 
taught without extra charge. 

Extensive grounds, spacious buildings, commodious class rooms, library, reading 
rooms, billiard and recreation rooms, and the largest and best equipped college 
gymnasium in the South, afford every facility for the self-improvement and physical 
well-being of the student. 

For Catalogue, etc., apply to REV. F. X. TWELLMEYER, S. J., President. 

NEW CHAPEL Photos h\)J. Duggan and R. Harrigan 

1. View from the Park; 2. Breaking the Ground; 3. Interior view 

a. m a. <5. 



g>pn«9 l|fU (Baltaj* 

IWobU?, Alabama 


77ie o6/ec/ o/ THE SPRINGHILLIAN is to record College events, to stimulate literary endeavor among the 
students, and to form a closer bond between the boys of the Present and the Past. 


(Bammtvtiul Printing ttnnipang 
fflofflt. Ala. 


WELCOME, O SPRING (Acrostic) Humbert M. Diaz, 12 3 

ON THE EVE OF EXAM. E.J. Lebeau, 10 4 

Christ's Ride to Jerusalem (Poem) a. C. M. io 

Leading Characters— Scott's Lady of the Lake F. Pwhaska, 13 13 

The Sunny South (Poem) E. J. Lebeau, 10 19 

The Ivory idol H.M.Diaz, 12 20 

Etchings 27 

The Silver Star /. p. Newsham, 12 27 

A Night in Caa^p C.L.Taty, 12 28 

A Village Scene f. L.Pmhaska, 13 28 

The Skull H.J. <Prevost, 12 29 

The Open Window H. S. Patterson, 12 30 

What Dixie Used to Be (Poem) /. C. Monaghan, 31 

The Vengeance of Dawson Caron A. Ball, 10 32 

IN MEMORIAM (Poem) J.M.W., '03 40 

Editorials . 41 

ALUMNI . 43 

College Notes 45 

Exhibitions __ 47 

Springs . 49 

Athletics . 50 

Exchanges 55 

®b? ^jtrttwhtiltatt 

Old series— Vol. xiii,, No. 2 april, 1910 New Series— vol. I., No. 2 


ftMartne tn thzz, © Spring, 

glf f rnm \\[t Summer %iug ! 

kflug fraxrE iwb nraiiBrl, sail gEaruiug inx ifaz, 

(Entnttig from Summer's Irxtmje 

©tit in tltB fields gnu rtfam 

TOakiug all flnnrjers gag 

garb: nritfr tlrg magir sprag. 

©It, tariff in* nraifceri, Tnng tmsftiug fnr IItbb! 

Stfuurliug tbx Summer's call 

Piping ttr£ Winter's fall 

sfiLatlickiug, frnlirkiug nutter tte ittt%, 

%xtirx ti\t nrrrrtri gnu bring 

Naught tot tlrg jogs, © Spring ! 

Smtiugsl © Quztn trf tht riallging btzzzz. 

Humkzxt TO. |Jiaz t '12 


n Vkt fgwe ®i fgsam. 

I was seated before a table in my 
room, my collar on the floor at my feet, 
my hat on one of the bed-posts, and 
across the back of a near-by chair hung 
the coat I had just taken off. In my 
lap lay a copy of Sporting Life, and 
on the table, opened of course, was 
Shepard's Higher Chemistry. It was 
ten-thirty, and from my personal ap- 
pearance, as well as from the condition 
of my table, it was not hard to see 
that I was in anything but a pleasant 
mood. Things had gone against me 
to-night. I had given up a good play 
in order to pay my respects to a young 
lady friend who was visiting in the 
city, but, on arriving at the house, I 
was informed by the maid that she was 
not at home. 

To make matters worse I had to 
stand a Chemistry examination next 
morning, and I was sure that, al- 
though I should study all night, it 
would be impossible for me to pass. 
I tried to concentrate my thoughts on 
Chemistry, but it was no use. I took 
up Sporting Life, but could not get in- 
terested in it, which was something 
unusual for me. I now glanced 
around the room in hopes of finding 
something to while away the minutes 
until my companions* return from the 

By chance my eyes wandered first 
to the mantel piece, and there I be- 

held, sitting in all his majesty, grin- 
ning from ear to ear, the very picture 
of merriment, Billiken, the God of 
Fun. I had bought the statue that 
afternoon in a curio shop down town. 

Now there was no reason in the 
world for me to lose my temper, but 
nevertheless I did. To think that an 
image could afford to laugh at my dis- 
comfort! Why, I wouldn't even let a 
human being do that, much less a piece 
of clay. Grabbing my Chemistry I 
arose and was on the point of teaching 
him a lesson, never to laugh at an- 
other's misfortune, when I stopped and 
lowered my arm. 

What was it I saw? The book 
dropped from my hand and I sank 
back into my chair. I rubbed my 
eyes and looked again. The same 
sight. The cold sweat stood out in 
large beads on my forehead. I tried 
to shift my gaze in hopes that when I 
looked again I would see the vision no 
more. It was in vain. I clutched the 
sides of my chair and stared straight 
at the object. There in the very spot 
where the statue had been, stood a 
visitor, a hideous person from some 
other world. 

Words cannot express my terror, 
nor describe that fearful force. It 
was an awful sight, enough to raise 
the hair on the bravest head. The 
eyes gleamed like balls of fiery coal. 



and from the mouth and nose issued 
a bluish flame. The head showed 
no hair, but from his forehead two 
pointed horns shot upwards. The 
imp's whole body was for the most 
part red. In his right hand he carried 
a pitchfork, and at his side hung a 
bunch of keys, which I afterwards 
learned unlocked the different apart- 
ments of Hades. His toes were long 
and curved upwards at the ends. In 
all he -was a horrible sight from head 
to foot. 

How long I sat thus paralyzed I 
know not, but I was soon brought to 
my senses by seeing Sir Knight of the 
Fork jump from the mantel and with- 
out the least sound alight on the floor. 
I tried to rise, but found I had lost all 
powers of moving; I tried to pray, but 
words refused to come. My God! 
thought I, this must be my last hour 
on earth, and this person has come to 
claim me. What had I done to belong 
to him? I tried to think, but failed. 
He came towards me, and seated him- 
self upon the edge of the table. I ex- 
pected to see the wood flame up at 
any moment, but, strange to sav, it did 
not. He began to speak, and the voice 
seemed miles away. 

"My friend," quoth he, "having 
heard of your disappointment this 
evening from one of my companions, 
I have come to offer you a little amuse- 
ment. It is very seldom that the privi- 
lege which I am extending to you, of 
visiting the Elysian Fields, is granted 

to any one. In fact, no one since the 
time of Aeneas has ever returned to 
earth after visiting that blissful re- 
gion. No doubt you have heard of that 
famous warrior while studying Vir- 


The Elysian Fields — Virgil — Aeneas 
— what was he talking about? Oh yes, 
I remember. When in college some 
years before I had studied about the 
descent of Aeneas into hell. But it 
was so long ago that I had almost for- 
gotten, and, besides, the Roman Epic 
was only a story. I thought I must be 
dreaming and rubbed my eyes to see 
if my weird visitor would not vanish. 
But no, there he was still on the table 
before me. He was speaking again. 

"Friend, will you come?" 

By this time my surprise and terror 
had grown somewhat less, so summon- 
ing all the courage I could muster, I 
addressed him: 

"I would like to know who you are 
and why you come here to disturb me. 
I am perfectly content to be alone." 

Instead of becoming angry as I half 
expected he would, he simply chuck- 
led and answered: 

"My appearance tells you who I am, 
and I think I have already stated my 
business. If you wish to follow me, 
hurry and decide. Time flies. Re- 
member this offer will not be made 

I began to consider the matter. So 
far he had done nothing terrible, 
True his appearance was horrifying. 


Perhaps all fiends were not without 
some good feeling towards man. 
This one seemed to be friendly. Why 
not follow him for the fun of it? I 
could always stop and return if I 
wished. So I gave my consent and 

He went to the door, down the 
stairs, through the hall, and out into 
the street. The night air was chilly 
and, having forgotten my coat, I began 
to feel the cold. I asked permission 
to return for my coat, but my friend 
said that time was precious; besides, 
I wouldn't need it once we got to 
Hades. We went down the street to 
the corner and there I saw standing at 
the curb the queerest looking two- 
seated red automobile I had ever had 
the pleasure of laying my eyes upon, 
and I had seen a good many in my 

It's no use trying to describe it. 
Upon inquiring as to its make, I was 
told that this was the style used in 
Hades, and even there very few of 
them are found. 

"This one," he said, "belonged to 
Queen Elizabeth." He had only bor- 
rowed it for the evening. 

So they had automobiles in Hades ! 
That was something new for me. But 
perhaps these folks were as well ad- 
vanced in civilization as we were. And 
why shouldn't they be, since so many 
go there from earth every day. 

We were soon on our way, speeding 
through familiar streets, shooting 

around corners, from which I expected 
every moment to see a policeman run 
forward and command us to stop for 
breaking the speed limit, but no one 
bothered us. After a time we reached 
the open country where my companion 
increased the speed of the car to such 
an extent that we only hit the high 
places and then not very many of 
them. I reached for his arm to ask 
him to slow down a little, as I was 
afraid for my good health, but instead 
of my grabbing something solid, my 
fingers passed right through him. 
Mine host only laughed, and informed 
me that spirits did not have corporeal 
bodies like ours and therefore could 
not be felt. 

We soon came to a thick wood 
where, slowing down the car, much to 
my satisfaction, this up-to-date Charon 
entered on a side path and came to a 
halt before a large mound of earth. 
He alighted and going forward struck 
the mound thrice with his fork. 

Now there was nothing in the gen- 
eral appearance of the mound to at- 
tract attention. I would have passed 
it a hundred times without even tak- 
ing special notice of it. But as I 
looked, the whole side disappeared, 
leaving a large opening from which 
issued many peculiar noises. My friend 
returned to the car, mounted and drove 
into the opening before us. When we 
had entered, the earthen wall returned 
to its place and rounded out the mound 
once more. 


At first I was unable to see a thing, 
but was conscious from the motion of 
the car that we were going down hill 
at terrific speed. I closed my eyes, 
half expecting to be dashed to atoms, 
half suspecting that I was only dream- 
ing and that I would wake up to find 
myself back in my room. After about 
ten minutes — the longest I have ever 
spent on this earth — my companion 
bade me open my eyes as we had 
reached our destination. 

I immediately did so, and found we 
were running on a level road, through 
a field of green grass. In the distance 
a river could be seen winding its way 
peacefully along, its surface as smooth 
as glass. This, I was told, was the 
Styx, the largest river in Hades. On 
the field, as far as the eye could see, 
were shadowy beings, dressed in many 
different costumes, which I at once 
recognized as the dress of the ancients. 
Many were the personages pointed out 
to me by my friend. There in the 
distance stood Hercules with a tree as 
a club, which he was continually 
swinging over his head, much to the 
dismay of the near-by shades. There 
by the bank of the river were the 
giants, Panderus and Bitias, amusing 
themselves by tossing to one another 
any of the unlucky spirits who hap- 
pened to come within reach of their 
long arms. There, too, seated on the 
grass, were Brutus and Cassius, quar- 
reling as of yore, and not far distant 

sat the great Pompey, eyeing them 

Shifting my gaze, I was startled and 
filled with fright to see coming along 
the road some ten people. They 
seemed to be unconscious of our pres- 
ence, and I saw there was no possible 
chance to avoid running them down, 
as they were only a few yards away. 
I turned my head from the sight, as I 
always had a dread of seeing a person 
killed, and waited for the shock that 
never came. You may realize how 
startled I was when, looking back, I 
saw the same persons walking along 
as if nothing had happened. I then 
remembered my first experience, and 
decided that these were nothing but 
spirits, and that we had passed 
through the group, harming no one. 

Before long we came to a high fence 
which my companion informed me 
separated the ancient from the modern 
spirits. If they were allowed to mix, 
the older race would always be fight- 
ing. However, he said, some of the 
great persons in each division were 
allowed to visit one another on certain 


The gate was opened for us by an- 
other fiend who in appearance resem- 
bled my companion. Compared to the 
bustling place we now entered, the 
one just left was quite restful. In 
this -new apartment of Hades, every- 
thing and everyone seemed in a great 
hurry. The road we now traveled 
resembled Broadway on a Saturday 


night One of the first sights that met 
my gaze was a card game. Around a 
table sat Napoleon, Queen Elizabeth, 
Washington, Queen Ann and Julius 
Caesar, playing a friendly game of 
bridge. The scowl on Caesar's face 
told plainly that he was not the master 
of this, as, in Gaul, he had been of 
another bridge. But we must excuse 
him, for how could he, a poor, igno- 
rant, ancient, expect to beat such 
"sharks" as Napoleon and Washing- 
ton, to say nothing of the cunning 
Queen Bess. Still touring the high- 
way, we left them far behind. 

Glancing upwards I saw many air- 
ships floating about. In one of them 
I spied Nero taking lessons in aerial 
navigation. He seemed to have a hard 
time of it, as his portly stomach was 
invariably in the way when he reached 
for the lever. He was soon enveloped 
in a mountain of snow-white clouds 
and lost to our view. 

Tired of watching the many air 
ships, I lowered my head and, scan- 
ning the grassy bank just beside the 
road, I spied the great Cicero, shoot- 
ing dice with Henry the Eighth. Old 
Cicero seemed to have the best of the 
argument, for his pile of coin was con- 
siderably larger. 

The numerous sights I had seen 
thus far, were surprising enough, to 
say the least; but they were nothing 
compared to what I now beheld. 
Coming along the road towards us 
was a sled, drawn by some ten pairs 

of huge dogs. The driver, wrapped 
in furs from head to foot, was urging 
his dogs onward, but, though they 
w ere making excellent time when we 
met them, nevertheless, I succeeded 
in getting a good view of the face of 
the driver. I thought it looked famil- 
iar, and my judgment was verified a 
moment after by my companion. He 
informed me that the occupant of the 
sled was none other than the famous 
Dr. Cook, who had caused such world- 
wide excitement by his announcement 
of having reached the North Pole. So 
this was where our great discoverer 
had gone to. No wonder he couldn't 
be located on earth, although a most 
extensive search had been made, I men- 
tally contemplated the excitement I 
would cause when I would return to 
the upper world and tell of having 
seen the great explorer in the Elysian 
Fields. Wouldn't I make a hit 
though ! A real newspaper sensation ! 

The car still sped on over the even 
road. Before long another wall con- 
fronted us, made of brick and much 
higher than the first one we had 
passed. Here we had some trouble 
with the guard at the gate before we 
were allowed to enter. This place I 
was told was the real pit of everlasting 
fire and torture, from which there 
was no escape. I began to have fears 
of never returning myself, but my 
companion assured me that as long as 
I was with him there was no danger. 

As the gate opened I was greeted 


by loud wailings and heart-rending 
cries from within. Passing under the 
archway I noticed a sudden change in 
the atmospheric conditions. A hot, 
stifling wind took the place of the cool, 
refreshing breeze; dark, inky-colored 
clouds rolled across the heavens; 
above the awful shrieks of the lost 
souls could be heard a rumbling 
sound as of distant thunder. Truly 
this was the most terrible of the three 
places we had visited. 

The road we now took was any- 
thing but smooth. Huge rocks and 
deep holes were everywhere. My 
companion explained that as this road 
was not intended for joy rides, they, 
the demons, had not thought it worth 
having it paved. 

On my left were many little devils 
stacking bricks in the shape of squares. 
They were everywhere. Some had 
just started the their squares; others 
were almost through; all were grin- 
ning from ear to ear, and shrieking 
most hideously. I was told that these 
brick piles belong to the people of the 
earth. Each person as soon as he 
sins is assigned a spot in this region 
for his pile, and a devil is appointed to 
care for it. For every sin committed 
a new brick is added to his square, 
and when the pile is finished he is cast 
into everlasting fire. If, however, he 
happens to die before his pile is com- 
pleted he is saved, and is given a place 
in the second region of the Elysian 
Fields. Above each square is the name 

of its owner. I recognized many. 

Among them, to my dismay, I saw 
my pile almost completed. I swore 
then and there never more to sin, but, 
as soon as I should return to earth, to 
retire to some ancient monastery and 
there live out my life in solitude and 
prayer. I shuddered to think how 
near I had been to destruction. 

On the other side a new scene pre- 
sented itself. There in a gulf of, fire 
struggled hundreds upon hundreds of 
poor unfortunates. They cried out to 
us for help. It was an awful sight. 
Darting hither and thither were jail- 
ers, all with pitchforks, now prodding 
one victim, now another. 

I was so engrossed in this horrible 
sight that I was unaware that some- 
thing was wrong with the car, until 
we were on the very edge of the crater. 
I then attempted to jump, but it was 
too late. Down, down, we went into 
the fiery sea. As I reached the fire I 
had a chilly sensation of something 
cold running down my back. Squirm- 
ing in an attempt to escape this new 
torture I must have tumbled from my 
chair. Looking around I saw noth- 
ing of the lake, car or chauffeur. 

On the mantel piece, Billiken still 
grinned, while my roommate stood 
above me with a glass of ice water. 
"Asleep, Pal," he said laughing. 

"Asleep!" I answered, and fervently 

added, "Thank God, John, it wasn't 

real I" 

E. J. Lebeau, '10 


(Prist's %%&t tu ffjerusaiettt 

"Hosannah to the Son of David ! 

David's Son and Judah's King! 
Let His path with palm be paved 

And the loud hosannahs ring! 
Ring the song from hill to dell! 
He comes, the King of Israel !" 

But ah, behold Him meek and lowly, 
While they chant the joyous psalm, 

Mild and holy, riding slowly, 

'Mid the waving of the palm, 

In His Majesty as tender 

As the modest morning splendor 

On the brook-break o'er the rocklets on the hill. 
His countenance with more than earthly calm 

Illumined every rock and mountain rill, 

And penetrated every mind and will 

With radiance of joy that gently stole 
To every inlet of the swelling soul 

And bade each rising power within be still. 

For as the sun, when all the air 

Is blackened with a sudden night, 

Breaks, like a vision through despair, 
With all the fullness of his light ; 

Or as he sinks again in power, 

Enthroned upon the western shore, 
Where all the clouds that slumbering lower, 

Awaken in surprise 

With sudden sunlit eyes, 
And gleaming where the streaming sunbeams pour, 
Combine to light the crown of glory more ; 

Or as in mellow sky untold, 

The moon, with bright and radiant glance, 


And eye. that flashes sword of gold, 

Strikes darkness from her countenance ; 

Or as in the spring-time, 
The bird-on-the-wing time, 
The mocking-bird lone 
On his high oaken throne, 
His lute and his flute and all instruments seizes, 
And pours them all blended abroad on the breezes, 
Then cries as he wings away, 
Sighs as he sings away, 
Trying to fling away 
Poem and rhythm 
That take the heart with 'em, 
Until he at length 
With his spirit and strength 
Has deluged the woodland with musical flood, 
Meanwhile not seeming 
For all to be dreaming 
That hard by, the vulture is seeking his blood : 

Thus, as He rode along, 
Amid the festive song, 
From out the Saviour's face, 
There poured the light and grace, 
The light that led the mind, 
The grace that lured mankind. 
Calmer than sun-rays with the cloudlet blending, 
Lighter than moonbeams on the flower descending, 
Softer than dew the evening boughs distil, 
Than Luna self d in mellow moonlit rill, 
The kindly radiance stole 
Into each mind and soul, 

And bade each bosom long 
For that immortal song 
Which angels round Him, in His realm unseen, 
Adoring, trembling, gazing on His mien, 
Enchant with more than thrush or mocker's trill. 


But why are the Pharisees tracking His path? 

Why are the Sadducees up in their wrath? 

Why do earth's kingdoms roll and reel? 

Why do they tremble? Why do they feel 

The gentle tread of that gentle heel, 

And sound the note of dire alarm 

'Gainst Him who ne'er the bruised reed would harm? 

Behold, He pauses on the Olive Mount; 

A tear is in His eye of love and dole, 
And breaking from the everlasting fount 

Gives outlet to the torrent of His soul : 

"Jerusalem ! my world, my joy, my crown, 
Have I not loved thee as did no other? 

My own! why wilt thou hound thy Saviour down? 
Why strikest at the bosom of thy mother? 

Ah! woe to thee! how have I sighed for thee! 

But now, there's ruin, anguish, desolation, 

O'er all thy homes, when I have died for thee, 

My own — ungrateful — traitorous — doomed nation !" 

Yet, gentle Saviour! wipe away the tear! 
Kind lover of our souls dispel all fear! 

The tempered steel of the nail and spear 

They prepare for Thee 
Will be the sword o'er land and meer 
We'll bear for Thee, 

In the strife for death 
To our latest breath 
We'll dare for Thee! 

A. C. M. 



iJC0» 7 gi u % 




To appreciate the setting*' of the 
story which Scott so beautifully tells 
in the "Lady of the Lake," we must 
understand the feud that existed be- 
tween King James, the hero of the 
tale, and the border knights who 
roamed defiantly through the hills of 
the Scotch boundary. James was the 
son of Queen Margaret of England and 
was also connected with the house of 
Douglas. This connection came about 
through the marriage of his mother to 
the Earl of Angus, whom she after- 
wards divorced. Angus rose, therefore, 
to the supreme authority in Scotland 
and obtained possession of the person 
of the king, James V., transacted 
everything in the name of James and 
became in all respects the regent of 
Scotland. At length James was freed 
from the control of the Douglas family 
and took the reins of government in 
his own hands. 

Such was the political situation 
when James V., in pursuit of a stag 
over the hills of Perthshire, was lost 
at the close of day among his ene- 
mies. It will be the purpose of our 
humble efforts to depict the leading 
actors in this drama, not as they are 
found in the pages of history, but in 
the vivid, inspiring light which Scott's 
magic pen has thrown around them. 

Our interest throughout the work is 
centered on the character of Fitz- 
James, the strayed hunter who is no 
other than James V. of Scotland. By 
rank highly educated and accom- 
plished, Fitz-James, as we learn in the 
opening scenes of the poem, is in the 
prime of life, handsome and robust. 

"Not his the form, nor his the eye, 
That youthful maidens wont to fly. 
On his bold visage middle age 
Had slightly pressed its signet sage." 

This is the poet's beautiful expres- 
sion of his ideal, for he intends, as is 
evident in the descriptions, to make 
Fitz-James the ideal of manhood. 
Strongly built — a muscular and well- 
knit athlete — Fitz-James has that reso- 
lute bearing which we are wont to as- 
sociate with our ideal of manliness. 

"His limbs were cast in manly mold 
For hardy sports or contest bold." 

And though in his fateful hunt he is 
garbed in his simple hunting suit, even 
in such a guise he would grace the 
throne room. 

It is hardly to be expected that a 
king- so powerful and war-like should 
be at the same time a poet and a 
musician. Yet such is the case. For 
our hero, like his ancestor, James I., 



manifests this spirit in his love for the 
minstrels and bards of that day. 

His conduct throughout the narra- 
tive shows him to be fond of the hunt 
and other sports, and greatly to re- 
semble his father in his love for mili- 
tary exercises. That quality of his 
character which perhaps., appeals 
most to us of the Southland is his 
gentlemanliness and chivalry. This 
trait of a refined nature is brought into 
happy relief when Fitz-James meets 
Ellen on the shores of Loch Katrine. 

"His ready speech flowed fair and free, 
In phrase of gentlest courtesy." 

When told by Ellen that his arrival 
is expected and that a place is pre- 
pared for him at their home, he mod- 
estly declines. 

"Your courtesy has erred; 
No right have I to claim, misplaced, 
The welcome of expected guest." 

In the distressed condition in which 
he finds himself, this polite refusal 
shows his magnanimity, for, though 
he is a king in the hands of his sub- 
jects, he lets them believe that he is 
a wanderer from the hills. Again he 
shows his gallantry when at her invi- 
tation he has stepped into the little 
skiff to cross the lake. 

"I'll lightly front each high emprise 
For one kind glance of those bright eyes. 
Permit me first the task to guide 
Your fairy frigate o'er the tide." 

When Ellen invites him to enter the 

lodge on the island, he delicately 
makes her his protector: 

"My hope, my heaven, my trust must be, 
My gentle guide, in following thee!" 

Horsemanship has always been a 
characteristic accomplishment of the 
Highland gentry. That Fitz-James 
excels in this is made clear in the vivid 
words of our author: 

"Stand, Bayard, stand!" the steed obeyed, 
With arching neck and bended head, 
And glancing eye and quivering ear, 
As if he loved his lord to hear." 

Excellent horseman that he was, 
Fitz-James did not mount by the stir- 
rup nor did he grasp the saddle, but, 
wreathing his left hand in the mane, 
he lightly bounded off the ground and 
spurred the horse. The fiery steed 
sprang and plunged, but the rider sat 
erect and cool. 

"Then like a bolt from steel cross-bow 
Forth launched, across the plain they go." 

In spite of the corruptions of court 
life, he, true to his manhood, still re- 
tains that simple love of truth and the 
rashness of boyhood. 

In his intercourse with equals or 
inferiors and even enemies, he is al- 
ways courteous. In the scene where, 
before the combat, Roderick sharply 
taunts him thus: 

"By Heaven, I change 
My thought, and hold thy valor light 
As that of some vain carpet knight, 
Who ill deserved my courteous care, 
And whose best boast is but to wear 
A braid of his fair lady's hair." 



we have a picture of him, great in his 
self control and well-contained power. 
With a calmness born of a bold and 
fearless spirit, he turns to Sir Roder- 
ick and says mildly: 

"I thank thee, Roderick, for the word! 
It nerves my heart, it steels my sword." 

That he was keen to appreciate a 
favor done to him, and that his grati- 
tude was of a fruitful kind which be- 
gets generous acts, are strikingly im- 
pressed on the mind by the words and 
actions of Fitz-James when he realizes 
the power his opponent might turn to 
his aid, but finds him too generous a 
foe to take undue advantage. The 
trying predicament in whiclvthe king 
finds himself is picturesquely told by 
Scott in these beautiful lines: 

"Roderick whistled • shrill ; 
And he was answered from the hill. 
On right, on left, above, below, 
Sprung up at once the lurking foe, 
And every tuft of broom gives life 
To plaided warrior armed for strife." 

But when Roderick Dhu refuses to 
avail himself of this assistance, 

"Nor would I call a clansman's brand, 
For aid against one valiant hand." 

he won the gratitude and admiration, 
if not the love, of the king. To such 
a degree was Fitz-James moved that 
he pleaded with Roderick to seek other 
means of settling their feud than a 

"Can naught but blood our feud atone?" 

That it is to manifest his gratitude 
and not from any craven fear that he 
thus seeks to avoid the combat, is clear 
from his words: 

"Yet sure thy fair and generous faith, 
And my deep debt for life preserved, 
A better meed have well deserved." 

Fitz-James was grateful because, 
perhaps, he loved to see in an opponent 
such a spirit of fair play. He was not, 
however, dismayed at the threats of 
Roderick, owing to the confidence he 
felt in his own power, for he might 
have summoned his own soldiers : 

"Of this small horn one feeble blast 
Would fearful odds against thee cast;" 

But he was not to be outdone in 
fairness : 

"But fear not — doubt not — which thou wilt — 
We try this quarrel hilt to hilt." 

The bravery, the chivalry and court- 
eousness of James, his greatness of 
heart and his uprightness of. soul, his 
love of healthful sport and his skill in 
combat, make him one of the most at- 
tractive characters which Scott has de- 
picted in his poems. 

We shall now attempt to picture 
Ellen who figures prominently in the 
story : 

"And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace 
A nymph, a naiad, or a grace, 
With finer form or lovelier face!" 

She is the daughter of James Doug- 
las, the uncle of the Earl of Angus. 
Her mother died when she was quite 



young, and she has a foster-mother, 
Dame Margaret, 

"To whom, tho' more than kindred knew, 
Young Ellen gives a mother's due." 

Since she is the daughter of a pow- 
erful highland chief, she dresses in the 
silken plaid and wears the satin snood 
and golden brooch that proclaim her 
rank. Brought up amid the wild 
beauties of the mountains and lakes of 
Perthshire, her soul is rilled with a 
love for nature's charms. Untram- 
meled by the rules of court, her step 
is light, her carriage graceful as a 
fairy's : 

E'en the slight hare-bell raised its head, 
Elastic from her airy tread.'" 

Her speech, mellowed by the soft 
accent of the mountain tongue, has a 
personal charm that holds the chance 
listener. Her modesty is prettily por- 
trayed in the scene where she first en- 
counters Fitz-James: 

"The maid, alarmed, with hasty oar 
Pushed her light shallop from the shore, 
And when a space was gained between, 
Closer she drew her bosom screen; 
Then safe, tho' fluttered and amazed, 
She paused, and on the stranger gazed." 

In her conversation with the old 
minstrel, Allan-Bane, her forceful 
words bespeak the nobleness and 
frankness of her disposition which 
strongly tends towards what is just 
and right: 

"Rather will Ellen Douglass dwell 
A votaress in Muronuaris cell ; 

Rather through realms beyond the sea, 
Seeking the world's cold charity, 
Where ne'er is spoke a Scottish word, 
And ne'er the name of Douglass heard, 
An outcast pilgrim will she rove, 
Than wed the man she cannot love." 

Ellen is gifted with a strong, reso- 
lute will. When Roderick Dhu in all 
his pomp comes to the island after his 
victories, Ellen is called to meet him : 

"Come, loiterer, come! a Douglas thou, 
And shun to wreathe a victor's brow?" 

Lady Margaret thus remonstrates, but 
Ellen reluctantly obeys, and when she 
hears a distant bugle note, she seizes 
the opportunity of embracing what ap- 
pears to her conscience as true and 
proper : 

"List, Allan-Bane! from mainland cast 
I hear my father's signal blast. 
'Be ours,' she cried, 'the skiff to guide, 
And waft him from the mountain side." 

And leaving Roderick eagerly looking 
after her, she darts to the boat and is 
soon out into the bay. How dutiful 
and filial is her love for her father! 
She is soon at the other shore, and 
when her father is safely in the boat 
she opens her heart, by word and eye 
betraying her anxiety and love : 

"Oh, my sire ! 
Why urge the chase so far away? 
And why so late returned? And why — " 
The rest was in her speaking eye." 

We catch a glimpse of the religious 
side of her character when in the cave 
she is singing the Ave Maria, accom- 
panied on the harp by Allan-Banc. 


1. Professor J. C. Monaghan; 2. In College Park; 3. St. Patrick's Parade; 

4. Below the Lake 



Roderick Dhu overhears them and 
stands "unmoved in attitude and limb/' 
and when the music ceases, he sadly 
exclaims : 

"It is the last time, the last time e'er, 
That angel voice shall Roderick hear." 

Ellen's womanly instincts which 
lead her to shun Roderick are uncon- 
sciously made known in the short 
speech of the warrior: 

"Mine honored mother — Ellen — why, 
My cousin, turn away thine eye?" 

But we must leave the beautiful 
character of Ellen and turn our atten- 
tion for a few moments to the strik- 
ingly soldierly character of Roderick 
Dhui This bold and fearless warrior 
is the son of Margaret, Ellen's foster- 
mother. Scott first introduces him to 
us when he arrives at the island. This 
meeting with Ellen has already been 

To understand his actions more 
fully, it is necessary to mention the 
enmity that exists between him and 
Malcolm Graeme. Both are suing for 
the hand of Ellen, and the outcome of 
this contention forms one of the prin- 
cipal themes in the poem. When Rod- 
erick is partaking of the hospitality of 
the Douglasses, he and Graeme quar- 
rel, but a bloody duel is averted only 
by the intervention of Ellen and Mar- 
garet. Then it is that he makes his 
sharp, bitter speech : 

"Rest safe till morning; pity 'twere 
Such cheek should feel the midnight air!" 

His nature is fiery and impetuous. 
That evening he swore "to drown his 
love in war's wild roar" nor to think 
of Ellen again. But in vain, as Scott 
assigns the simple reason: 

"But he who stems the stream with sand, 
And fetters flame with flaxen band, 
Has yet a harder task to prove — 
By firm resolve to conquer love." 

All night he paced the lonely strand 
and no thought of rest or of peace 
could allay the fires raging in his mind. 
Ellen gives a clear idea of her im- 
pressions of him, when, before his 
coming, she is speaking to Allan- 

"I shuddered at his brow of gloom, 
His shadowy plaid and sable plume; 
A maiden grown, I ill could bear 
His haughty mien and lordly air." 

He is strongly given to the preva- 
lent superstitions of his time and 
holds the traditional beliefs of the 
Clansmen of Scotland — for instance, 
the ritual of the Fiery Cross. 

Roderick undoubtedly has in him the 
sternness out of which warriors are 
made, and it is happily blended with 
a nobleness of spirit worthy of a sol- 
dier's soul. These traits are brought 
forth strongly in the words of Roder- 
ick before the combat : 

"Bold Saxon! to his promise just, 

Vich Alpine has discharged his trust. 

This* murderous chief, this ruthless man, 

This head of a rebellious clan, 

Hath led thee safe, through watch and ward, 

Far past Clan Alpine's outmost guard. 


Now, man to man, and steel to steel, 
A chieftain's vengeance thou shalt feel." 

Observe the passion and bold courage 
that ring in these words : 

"He yields not, he, to man nor fate! 
Thou adds't but fuel to my hate." 

Even when he might have caught 
Fitz-James unawares, he has honor 
enough not to take a mean advantage. 

"It rests with me to wind my horn : 
Thou art with numbers overborne. 
It rests with me, here, brand to brand, 
Worn as thou art, to bid thee stand. 
But not for Clan or kindred'scause 
Will I depart from honor's laws. 
To assail a wearied man were shame, 
And stranger is a holy name." 

This spirit of honor is united to a 
courtesy, which we must confess re- 
markable in the light of the present 
trend towards selfishness. Having 
dismissed his band of ready warriors, 
he thus addresses Fitz-James : 

"Fear naught! nay, that I need not say, 
But, doubt not aught from mine array; 
Thou art my guest. I pledged my word 
As far as Coilantogle ford." 

Though Roderick is unknown to us 
when Fitz-James seeks food and rest 
of him, he displays a spirit of mercy 
which we must praise. 

"Nor would I call a clansman's brand 
For aid against one valiant hand. 
Tho' on our strife lay every vale 
Rent by the Saxon from the Gael." 

In the combat, however, Fitz-James 
surpasses him in sword play, as is set 
forth in the words of our author : 

"Fitz-James' blade was sword and shield; 
He practised every pass and ward, — 
To thrust, to strike, to feint, to guard, 
While less expert, tho' stronger far, 
The Gael maintained unequal war." 

The last view we have of Roderick 
is in the dungeons at Stirling, where 
his life is slowly wasting away: 

"As the tall ship, whose lofty prore 
Shall never stem the billows more, 
Deserted by her gallant band, 
Amid the breakers lies astrand, 
So on his couch lay Roderick Dhu." 

His first thoughts when he sees the 
minstrel are of his clansmen and the 
war, as we see in his disjointed ques- 
tions : 

"What of thy lady? Of my clan? 
My mother? Douglas? Tell me all. 
Have they been ruined in my fall? 
Ah yes, or wherefore art thou here? 
Yet speak, speak boldly, do not fear." 

Allan was too choked with fright 
and grief to answer, so the^chief con- 
tinues : 

"Who fought? Who fled? Old man, be brief; 
Some might, for they had lost their chief. 
Who basely live? Who bravely died?" 

When Allan speaks of Roderick's clan 

"Thy stately pine is yet unbent. 
Tho' many a goodly bough is rent," 

the worn warrior with a supreme effort 
raises himself up, his face deathly pale. 
He bids the minstrel play on his harp 
the martial airs which were played 
when his clan met the Saxons: 


I'll listen till my fancy hears Such are the chief characters which 

The clang of swords, the clash of spears." figure in the Lady of the Lake. Scott 

mi « , , ,. , . has borrowed them from history, but 

I he bard obeyed tremblingly, and ,. ,. « . ... , , ., . 

, '. .. -, # , .J his lively imagination has clothed 

the dying chief s face shows different .* ..£ .. . , . r , ,. 

/ * , . „ them with the noblest of human quah- 

emotions as the song changes. Scott .. A .. ,, , .., 

, . , , ., & , . . & . ties and emotions, so that while 
touchingly describes his death: , . - ,, , . £ ,. 

& J charmed by the sweet music of the 

"His face grows sharp, his hands are clenched, verse and carried away by the swift 

As if some pang his heart-strings wrenched. current of the story, we are at the 
Set are his teeth, his fading eye ime instructed and devated b 

Is sternly fixed on vacancy. 

Thus motionless and moanless, drew his beautiful portrayal of human na- 

His parting breath stout Roderick Dhu." ture. Frank Prohaska, '13 

Sbe jBtttttttJ jfatttfl 

I love ti\e Soutfy tY\e sunny SoUtl), 

Wfjere cooling breezes bkrW, 
Wr^ere trees ne'er lose tfyeir dress of green, 

WYxefe laughing brooklets flo^. 

I love tl\e Soiltti, tl\e sunny SoxXtil, 
Wl^ere songsters ^aKe ti\e day 

Rr\d freely fling fron\ silver throats 
Tr^eir s^eet, Unending lay. 

I love tt\e SoTitJ}, tJ^e sunny Soutr), 

T.t\e land of peace and joy; 
Her TAtoods and fields, l^er laKes and strearns, 

Hll thrilled rne Wl^en a boy. 

I love tl\e Soiitri, ti\e sunny Soutfy 

Rr\d tt(OTigl| fron\ tier I roarc\, 
My t\eart is lAJitfy i\er evermore— 

Tt\e land I call n\y Y\on\e. 

I love tfyee, Southland, sunny Soiltri, 

Rr[d e'er ir\y prayer sl\all be, 
Tr^at Tt)Y[er\ I'rn called to n\eet rny God 

111 go to Hin\ frorn tlc\9Q. 

E. i. L«b«au, '10 



3f Ire gwr§ IIjctX 

On April 1, 1909, I mounted the 
gang plank of the S. S. Cardonia of 
the Royal Line, leaving San Francisco 
for Shanghai. Scarcely had I ar- 
ranged my luggage in the state room, 
when, with a warning shriek, the huge 
ship swung slowly out from her moor- 
ings, amid the farewell cheers of the 
crowd on the pier. 

At nightfall we were rolling upon 
the waters of the Pacific. For the 
first time in my life I felt homesick. 
"Bah!" I sniffed, "why should I feel 
homesick, I, who had no home for 
years?" Still I wished to be again on 
land with my friends and acquaint- 
ances. Nevertheless I intended to be 
as contented as the circumstances 
would allow. Leaving the supper 
table, I adjourned to the deck where, 
seated in a large steamer chair, I be- 
gan to think of the city I had just left, 
and tried to imagine what would be- 
fall me on this trip which I was 
somewhat impatiently undertaking. 

I was revolving many plans in mind 
when a smothered cough at my side 
roused me from my reverie. 

"Is this Mr. Sagen?" some one in- 

"Yes," I answered, somewhat sur- 
prised that any one on board should 
know me. 

"My name," continued the stranger, 

"is Martin L. Lewis, of New York. 
Presuming that you are on a pleasure 
journey I would like you to do a favor 
for me." 

"Well, what can I do for you?" said 
I, wondering what new adventure 
might be in store for me. 

Encouraged by my ready interest in 
his affairs, Lewis first begged pardon 
for appealing to me, a stranger, and 
then said: 

"Listen attentively to the story I am 
going to relate to you, and then judge 
whether I have taken an unpardonable 
liberty in attempting to enlist your 

Drawing up to my side a nearby 
chair, Lewis sat down and commenced 
his story. 

"By profession I am a doctor, and 
until lately Chief Surgeon in the New 
York Ear and Nose Hospital. A year 
ago while traveling through China, I 
chanced to visit the temple, called by 
foreigners 'Many Idols.' While gaz- 
ing at an ivory image in this famous 
place, I was suddenly embraced by a 
man at the time cleaning the lamp be- 
fore the shrine, who exclaimed 
'brother'! I had scarcely time to get 
a glimpse of his face before he was 
seized and hurried away by a party of 
Chinamen who had come on hearing 
him call. I was at my wit's end, try- 



ing to find a reason for his strange 
act, and the way in which he had been 
taken away; but I could come to no 
other explanation than that the man 
was insane. What puzzled me most 
was this : the man had uttered the 
word 'brother' with a pure English ac- 
cent. Now I was sure that he could 
not be my brother, for the latter was 
at the time in Australia." 

Lewis paused here to give me an 
inquiring look. When I had assured 
him that I was following perfectly the 
narrative, he proceeded: 

"I returned to New York shortly 
afterwards, and under pretense of in- 
quiring about his health, I sent my 
brother a cablegram. An answer 
came back that James had left for 
Japan some time previously. This un- 
expected news aroused my suspicions. 
I quickly conferred with Doctor Bas- 
singer, a retired physician, and ac- 
quainted him with the whole affair. 
He agreed to accompany me to Shang- 
hai to see if the mystery could be 
solved. This accounts for our being 
on board ship, bound for China. We 
are resolved to rescue this man, who- 
ever he be, from these Chinese, who 
in my opinion, are holding him cap- 
tive for some reason or other. Now, 
Mr. Sagan, I am asking you as a 
favor to lend a helping hand, provided 
it will not inconvenience you." 

"I will help you," I said, "and, be- 
lieve me, I will be very glad to do so." 

I had just finished speaking when a 

middle aged man came up, and look- 
ing over his glasses at me, said : 

"Well, Emille— " 

"Bassinger," interrupted Lewis, "I 
want you to shake hands with Mr. 

"Sagen," mused Bassinger. "I won- 
der if it is Henry Sagen of Baltimore? 
I have had the pleasure of meeting him 
before." He extended his hand as he 

"Sure, I said, taking his hand, "Doc- 
tor Bassinger and I are old friends, 
having spent the winter of '99 to- 
gether at Palm Beach." 

The remaining days of the voyage 
passed very pleasantly in company 
with the Doctor and Lewis. One 
morning, upon awakening, we found 
that the Cardonia was in dock at 
Shanghai, and our journey at an end. 
Leaving the ship together, the three 
of us took rooms at the Grand Empire 
Hotel, choosing this because it was 
conducted by an English company. 


The next morning we went to the 
temple and began our delicate work of 
rescue. We climbed the low steps of 
the approach and entered the spacious 
hall that contained the ivory idol. 
Nearby, a man was cleaning the lamp ; 
I noticed that he wore no queue. We 
passed on, examining the wonderful 
image carved from a single piece of 
ivory, also the various ornaments that 
hung on the walls. So struck were 



we by the beauty of it all that we al- 
most forgot our mission. Lewis laid 
a hand on my arm as we returned to 
the shrine, and said: 

"There is our man." Bassinger then 
approached the servant and said some- 
thing in English. The latter, not 
heeding him, went on with his clean- 

"The fellow is evidently insane," re- 
marked Bassinger. Then turning^to 
the entrance of the temple, he said: 
"Don't leave until I return." 

In a few minutes he was back 
again, holding a hyperdermic injector 
in his hand. Quietly approaching the 
servant, he suddenly seized his left 
arm, and shot the needle into the flesh. 

"Please, Sagen, go call a cab." 
They brought the man to the carriage, 
placed him inside, and when Bassinger 
had jumped in, he whispered to the 
driver, "Grand Empire." 

Lewis and I sought another cab and' 
we were soon at the hotel. We went 
to our rooms and helped lay the man 
who by now was in a heavy stupor, on 
the bed. Having rested for a short 
time, Lewis broke the silen ce : 

"Let us remove this pigment from 
his face and see if we can identify 

Accordingly I procured a basin and 
towel, and scarcely had we finished 
our task when Lewis was heard to 
exclaim, "By heavens, it is my own 

Imagine our dismay when we real- 

ized into what distress this revelation 
had thrown poor Lewis. After a few 
moments, Bassinger broke the painful 

"Well, Lewis," he said feelingly, "I 
am very much pleased at seeing what 
a turn events have taken. We must 
continue our efforts and trace this 
matter to its source. He then crossed 
over to the table and having procured 
a pair of scissors, said: "I must now 
cut his hair and shave his head." 

This done, he made a careful exami- 
nation of his skull, and when his deli- 
cate fingers touched a spot above his 
temples, he quietly remarked, "his in- 
sanity is the result of a blow on the 

"Near the temple?" 

"Just above, but I am going to fix 

"Mr. Sagen," he said, "please bring 
that black bag here. I have some 
drugs in it; and go, please, and en- 
quire at the office below for a good 
English surgeon ; get him and tell him 
to bring an operating kit." 

I did as he ordered. 

About ten minutes afterwards I re- 
turned with the surgeon. 

The latter was an elderly gentleman, 
stout and very comfortable looking. 
His face was wreathed in smiles. 

"Dr. Cunningham, is it not?" asked 

"Yes, gentlemen, and I have the 
pleasure to meet " 

"Mr. Lewis, the brother of the pa- 



tient," said Bassinger, "and Mr. Sa- 
gen, a friend, and I am Dr. Bassinger. 
We sent for you, Dr. Cunningham, 
because we were in need of help. Our 
patient lying there has received a blow 
on the head which caused insanity, and 
since I am a surgeon, as are also Mr. 
Sagen and Mr. Lewis, I believe we 
might try an operation with good 
hopes of success." 

"Very well, very well," the Doctor 
replied, "I am at your service." 

We laid the man on the improvised 
operating table, and Bassinger rolled 
up his sleeves while the rest of us got 
things in readiness. The time passed 
so quickly that before I realized what 
was taking place, Bassinger was 
through. The operation seemed suc- 
cessful, judging from all signs. 

Breathing a sigh of relief, Bassinger 
threw himself back into a chair where, 
utterly fatigued by his exertions, he 
soon fell asleep. 

"Now, gentlemen, as Dr. Bassinger 
is asleep, we must remove the pa- 
tient," said Cunningham. 

We laid the patient on the bed and 
then sent out for an English nurse. 

The nurse found us all sitting 
around, discussing the chances of re- 

"Pardon me," said the nurse as she 
entered, "you sent for me?" 

"Yes/ said Cunningham, "We want 
you to attend to this man, and, mind 
you, nothing but ice and salt. Under- 

"Yes sir." 

Cunningham stood up and taking his 
bag and hat, walked to the door. 

"I will come back to-night," he said. 

A few days later James Lewis sat 
up in bed, uttering these disconnected 

words : "The diamond cr where am 

I w hy," 

But Lewis put his arms around him 
and told him he must lie still and be 

"My head," murmured James. 

"I know, but go to sleep; do not 

We paid the nurse, but Dr. Cun- 
ningham refused to accept remunera- 
tion, and when the latter left us that 
night we were sorry indeed to see him 
go, for he had proved a good friend 
to us. 


In a month when James was entirely 
well and strong we were eating in the 
dining room of the hotel when Emile 
Lewis said: "James, we want to know 
how it was that you came to be a 
servant in the temple." 

"Well," he said, "how I came to be 
a servant, I don't know; I do not re- 
member serving in the temple at all, 
and I find it hard to believe that I did 
so. But I am going to relate to you 
a deed that merits not only such slav- 
ery but even death. I went to Aus- 
tralia a few years ago as you remem- 
ber, but becoming tired of that coun- 
try I took boat to Japan and from Jt- 



pan to Shanghai. Whilst visiting the 
temple one day, I noticed a beautiful 
crown of diamonds which was hung 
on the left hand of the ivory idol. I 
became a thief from that moment, for 
in my heart I formed the resolve to 
take that crown. That night I went to 
the temple carrying a bag with me, 
and there I saw two Chinamen at 
worship. With a dagger which I had 
concealed in my sleeve I killed one 
and wounded the other. I took the 
diamond crown and put it in my bag, 
but no sooner had I started to leave 
than a bright light was turned on me. 
I hid my face and ran, but in the ex- 
citement my hat was lost. 

"I boarded a train for Pekin and 
from thence sailed to San Francisco. 
I did not worry much about the rob- 
bery, but the murder — Emille ! Emille ! 
it was a torture. The scene racked my 
brain and remorse was at work in my 
heart. I was marked as a second 
Cain by God, and as a murderer and 
thief by men. I kept the crown in an 
iron box in my room, looking at it 
only by night. 

I determined to remain in San 
Francisco in the vain hope that the 
dastardly deed would soon be forgot- 
ten. A few months after the robbery 
I received a small package by mail. 
Upon opening it I found, to my great 
surprise, a mummified frog, a bird and 
a rat; and on the rat's head was stuck 
a small gold dagger, an inch in length. 
I did not know what to make of it. I 

showed it to some friends and they 
told me to go to Wa Sing in China- 
town, who was held as a prophet 
among the Chinese inhabitants. On 
entering the joss house kept by Wa 
Sing, that worthy personage met me 
at the door and giving me a strange, 
searching glance, proceeded to answer 
my question. When I opened the 
box, he drew back and gave me an- 
other look. He took out the bird and 
I noticed that it was of a very peculiar 
species. He next took up the frog and 
then the rat. On taking the latter 
into his hand he felt the small dagger 
and his face showed great alarm. 

Carefully packing up the bird and 
frog and rat into the box, he closed it 
and said : 'Unless you can swim in the 
sea like a frog or fly in the air like 
birds or burrow in the ground like 
mice you will not escape a violent 

I went home more mystified than 
ever. But I began to suspect that I 
had been seen when the light was 
turned on me as I left the temple. I 
treated the matter lightly — too lightly, 
my dear Emille, as you see, and I 
looked upon it as a jest. 

A week or two later I was coming 
down the stairs from my room when I 
found at the bottom of the steps a 
letter addressed to me. Opening it I 
discovered three silken strings. I went 
again to Wah Sing, who took me to a 
room behind the store and, pointing to 
a chair, told me to sit down. I do not 



know whether he recognized me or 
not, but he fixed his eyes on mine and 
never lowered his gaze until I had ex- 
plained all. Then he said: 'Unless you 
put yourself out of the way, you will 
be slain by strange hands.' He 
pointed to the door. 

Going home I sat down to think 
this affair over in my mind. It struck 
me as being very peculiar that any 
one in the temple should have recog- 
nized me, for I am sure that I had my 
face covered when the light was 
turned on me. I let the matter rest 
until a week later when I received a 
small paper box such as jewelers use. 
Upon opening it I found a small gold- 
en sword about two inches long. I 
examined it closely and perceived that 
on the blade was inscribed some Chi- 
nese characters. I then knew that I 
was a marked man. 

I went to Wah Sing again. He con- 
ducted me to the same old room and, 
sitting down, said: 

'You have come twice to see me on 
a very delicate matter. You come the 
third time to find out more of this 
mystery. You will never know. The 
first time it was a bird, a frog, a rat 
and a dagger. The second time it was 
silken strings. You need not open the 
box, for I know it is a golden sword. 

'Listen,' he continued, 'you have 
committed a crime and incurred the 
anger of my countrymen. Take my 
advice and get help/ 

I left him and, going into a hard- 

ware store, purchased two revolvers. 
I then went home and hid my dia- 
mond crown; and for a week nothing 
happened. Friday night was a rainy 
one and I had come home early. I 
took out my crown and looked at it 
for a long time. I put it in my bu- 
reau drawer and went to bed. I re- 
member then smelling chloroform and 
receiving a blow, but I recollect noth- 
ing more. Here James stopped. 

"Well," asked Emille. 

"That is all," he answered. 

After a week out boat left Shang- 
hai and we departed for the States, 
glad to be away from the weird scenes 
which we had been witnessing. 

"Mr. Sagen, I want to thank you for 
helping us, and, believe me, I cannot 
express my thanks as I should, but 
any way I want to be your friend as 
you have been mine," said Lewis the 
day before we arrived in San Fran- 

"Don't mention it," I said, "only to 
put in a word. Your brother," I con- 
tinued, "did not end his story, for he 
does not know it, but I am going to 
fish out the details." 

"How?" he asked. 

"I am going with James to Wah 
Sing and ask him if he had ever seen 
James before, because I believe that 
Wah Sing had a hand in that affair." 

The day we arrived in San Francisco 
I went accompanied by James to Wah 
Sing's establishment." 

"Wah Sing," I said, after we had 


gone to the back room, '1 have come 
to ask you something, and though you 
are not bound to tell us, you would 
please us by doing so. First of all, 
have you seen this man before?" I 
pointed to James. 


"It is concerning him that I would 
have you tell me all that you know." 

"Well," he answered, "I will tell 
you, on one condition — that no one 
else must know." 

"No one except his brother here and 
another man," I answered, "whom I 
would ask you to meet. Will you 
come with us to the Palace Hotel?" 

"Very well," he answered. 

We arrived at the Palace Hotel, and 
after I had introduced Wah Sing to 
my friend I said: "Wah Sing, now 
tell us what you know. Though, as 
I said before, you are not bound to tell 
us the full story; still it will be better 
if you omit nothing." 

"As you know," said Wah Sing, 
"since the young gentleman must 
have told you, he came to me three 
times. I told him what each warning 
meant, but he seemed not to care. A 
few days after he had come to me with 
the third warning, five Chinamen en- 
tered my store. I rose to meet them 
and they said they would speak to me 
privately. I conducted them to my 

room and there the eldest took otf his 
robe, placed his hand on my shoulder 
and told me the story of the crime. 
He wanted me to swear before the 
ivory idol that I would avenge that 
deed. And so I swore before the im- 
age of the ivory idol and said : "Hear 
me, thou bearer of the diamond 
crown ! They told me that on the 
Swine night they were going to take 
vengeance upon him. 

"We hid ourselves in the man's 
room early in the evening, and at 
night while he was asleep one of the 
Chinamen, having given him chloro- 
form, struck him on the head with a 
brass rod. We took him to Chinatown 
and hid him till the boat left. Then, 
dressing him in a Chinese costume I 
left him in charge of the others and I 
returned home fully convinced that 
the young man was rendered insane 
by that blow." 

"Such was the vengeance of the 
bearer of the diamond crown. I have 
finished my story — I have no more to 

Without giving us time to thank 
him de departed. 

"So you see, James," said Bassin- 
ger, "you should never meddle with 
what is not yours. Take my advice 
and never touch diamonds." 




The Sxtor Star 

The eastern sky was just beginning 
to blush with the first rosy tints of 
dawn when we climbed up the side of 
the "Silver Star." The trim little 
yacht was in a thorough sea-going 
condition, and as she lay at anchor, 
her graceful curves and tapering spars 
filled my beauty-loving heart with joy. 
Our tars almost to a man had grown 
old on the heaving bosom of the rest- 
less main, and could be implicitly re- 
lied on in an emergency. 

The waves danced and frolicked in 
the rays of the fast-mounting sun ; the 
dark green of the channel merged im- 
perceptibly, like the colors of a rain- 
bow, into the deep blue of the gulf; 
the wind made wild music in the rig- 
ging overhead, and the good ship, un- 
der a full head of canvas, careered 
gaily over the curling waves. My 
guests on the cruise all expressed their 
delight at escaping from the heat and 
dust of the city, as the wind coming in 
invigorating puffs filled their lungs 
with life-giving air. Bowling along, 
we left a wake of creamy foam in our 
rear, soon, however, to be obliterated, 
leaving the mighty ocean trackless as 

As the sun neared its zenith, we ap- 
proached the island intended for our 
destination. Casting anchor, we rowed 
across the intervening water. After 
landing Ave divided into three parties 
to explore the island, having previous- 
ly selected a spot near the south beach 
as being most suitable for a rendez- 
vous on account of the excellent shade 
afforded by some wide spreading oaks 
that grew nearby. 

Here, after several hours spent re- 
veling in the seductive mysteries of 
the unknown, we met, built a large, 
roaring fire and initiated ourselves in 
all the joys of a clam-bake. Dinner 
over, we lay, luxuriously prone, on a 
velvet carpet of soft green grass, gaz- 
ing languidly up into the empyrean, 
and puffing contentedly on our meer- 

With the wind on our starboard 
quarter and with every sail set, our 
homeward voyage was even more de- 
lightful than that over to the island. 
It was just as the first stars were be- 
ginning to struggle for life that we ar- 
rived safely at the pier. All had spent 
an -enjoyable day and, weary from the 
pleasures of the trip, retired early to 
enjoy that sweet oblivion, sleep. 

J. P. Newsham, '12 



& NigW in (EEttrp 

The voices of the woodland song- 
sters that had entertained us during 
our day's trip up the river, had ceased 
and the sun was slowly sinking in the 
west when our two canoes were pulled 
upon the shelving shore. Camp was 
pitched and the savory smell of supper 
in preparation mingled with the fra- 
grance of pine and hemlock. 

Supper over we lit our pipes and sat 
around the fire, each one in turn tell- 
ing a story or a personal experience. 
Soon the lire burned low and we re- 
tired for the night. The moan of the 
whippoorwill and the hooting of the 
screech owl, the cry of the tree-toad 
and the chirping of the cricket, to- 
gether with the many voices of the 
night, kept me awake for a time, but 
it was not long before I joined my 
companions in dreamland. 

It was about 3:45 in the morning 
when we were disturbed by a fierce 
howl just outside the tents. All were 
astir, and upon investigation we dis- 
covered a wolf nosing about the camp. 
A rifle barked and the dying growl of 
the animal reverberated through the 
tranquil forest. After this little inci- 
dent we retired again and all slept 
snugly until morning. 

I was the first up and not having 
any special duty, I left camp with. my 
gun, returning in about an hour with 
a brace or two of birds. After break- 
fast we packed and made ready for a 

hasty departure, and at about 6:30, 
when the sun was slowly advancing 
through the eastern skies and the birds 
were beginning to carol, we pushed off 
and continued our journey. 

C. L. Paty, '12 

& 31iITsg£ %zznz 

Once while visiting the mountains 
of Virginia, I had an occasion to ride 
in an antiquated stage coach from one 
little village to another. It is needless 
to say that the scenery along the route 
was exceedingly beautiful, but on ac- 
count of the jolts of the rusty contri- 
vance beneath mej I was unable to en- 
joy the panorama nature had stretched 
out on every side. 

As we drew near a small town, 
there were words of admiration from 
the outside passengers for the snug 
little houses nestling so cozily in the 
valley. Rolling along by a circuitous 
road we finally entered the outskirts 
of the village. Drawing up at the 
dingy little post-office, my attention 
was attracted by the various greetings 
of the passengers and towns-people. 
Here were an old man and his daugh- 
ter united again after perhaps a 
week's separation. There a happy 
swain and his rustic lass were, half- 
embarrassed, admiring each other; he 
had probably just arrived from the 
city where he had been visiting. I 
saw two old cronies effusively greet- 



ing each other; one had returned after 
a month to his peculiar haunts. 

Bustle and excitement were every- 
where. After making the horses fast 
to the hitching post, the driver saun- 
tered among the crowd. I noticed 
that he distributed to a few Avhat 
looked like presents; a squirrel, a 
pheasant, a couple of newspapers, a 
bundle of drygoods, and to one bashful 
maiden he whispered something at 
which her face grew red, and she 
eagerly stretched forth her hand to 
receive a sealed note. 

At length the time for the stop-over 
was up and the horses having had a 
good blow were started on a trot 
through the town to the next village. 
As we in the lumbering carriage 
passed along the narrow streets, we 
were stared at by every man, woman 
or child who happened to be within 
short distance of a window. At the 
street corners, too, were idlers who 
looked as though they had never be- 
fore seen the coach, and I am sure 
that if they saw it once, they saw it a 
hundred times. 

Finally one of the axles became 
loose and we had to stop at the black- 
smith's shop. Here was gathered the 
sagest crowd in the whole country. 
No party could vie with them in poli- 
tics; the government should be run 
according to Hank's idea, or accord- 
ing to Si's. One old farmer waxed 
warm in a discussion on the problem 
of the airship. So heated became the 

argument that one of the helpers 
stood open-mouthed with a horse's 
hoof in his lap, while the poor beast 
stood impatient of the delay. An- 
other at the anvil dropped his sledge, 
shook his head, then resumed his 
pounding on an iron rim. The urchin 
at the bellows, glad of an excuse, 
stopped pumping until sharply re- 
minded of his job by the old smith 

The axle was tightened and we rode 
on. I remember that I looked back 
and saw the old farmer still sitting on 
a nail keg and haranguing the few 
patient bystanders, unaware even that 
we had left them. 

F. L. Prohaska, '13 

Tte Skull 

Panting and fatigued from my climb 
up the mountain I looked about me, 
just as the sun was beginning to set, 
to see if I could find a cave to protect 
me from the unpleasant night air. 
Directly in front of me I spied the en- 
trance to a cavern and my heart was 
glad. I entered, unbuckled my knap- 
sack, ate a light supper and prepared 
to go to sleep. Stretching myself at 
full length, my hand rested on some- 
thing hard and cold. I thought at 
first that it was a stone, but a certain 
clammy feeling that clung to it con- 
vinced me that I was mistaken. Im- 
agine my horror upon striking a light, 
at beholding a human skull. It was 



only by a great effort of will that I 
refrained from shrieking aloud. I cast 
the thing far from me and tried to 
compose myself to sleep. But what 
a night I passed! Sleep came to me 
in the shape of skulls and hideous 
monsters, and when I awoke suddenly 
from out these nightmares I was 
afraid to stir either hand or foot lest 
I should again come in contact with 
this death's head. Morning came at 
last and with it vanished all my fears 
and horrors of the night. I searched 
the cavern and in one corner found 
the skull. I brought it out into the 
light of day and examined it carefully. 
A deep gash in the forehead told the 
story of a violent death. I explored 
the cave carefully and not finding any 
human bones, concluded that the 
crime must have been committed in 
the forest below, from whence the 
skull may have been carried by a wolf 
to the cave where I found it. 

Quite in contrast with my actions 
of the night before, I put the skull in 
my knapsack and carried it home 
where it occupies a prominent place 
among the other souvenirs of my ex- 

H. J. Prevost, '12 

T(tb ©pm TOiurltfxu: 

One autumnal evening, having noth- 
ing else to do, I sat down by the open 
window to read. After perusing a 
volume of Poe's "Tales" for an hour 
or more, my eyes began to grow tired, 

so I closed my book and sat meditat- 
ing on what to do next. As something 
suggested itself, I was about to leave 
my chair when, glancing through the 
open window, I was fascinated by the 
scene without. 

The sky was clear and serene and 
all nature wore that rich golden livery 
which betokens autumn. The birds 
were taking their last farewell ban- 
quets and preparing to go South. The 
sinking sun gave the horizon a rich 
yellow tint that changed gradually into 
the deep blue of the mid heaven. 

Off on the western horizon the for- 
est clad hills lay silhouetted against 
the burnished sky, casting their long 
shadows across the valley beneath. 
Flat meadow lands composed the val- 
ley, flanked on each side by fields of 
Indian corn which, with its golden 
ears peeping from their leafy coverts, 
promised a bountiful harvest. 

A shell road lined on each side by 
sturdy oak and thick-growing cotton- 
wood, led past the house, through the 
valley, and finally disappeared like the 
end of a white ribbon among the re- 
cesses of the hills. On one side of the 
road, just before it dipped through the 
valley, there was a large orchard bur- 
dened with ruddy fruit which hung in 
oppressive opulence on the trees. On 
the other a grove of beech and hickory 
nut trees spread out down the hill 
from which might be heard the bark 
of a squirrel or the occasional whistle 
of a quail. H. S. Patterson, '12 



What JM*» ttstd S* 1* 

By J. C. Monaghan. 

Oft I pause perusing pictures 
That my fancy paints at times, 

Running words around and round 
Till they run in rambling rhymes. 
Among the fairest of my pictures, 

One I always like to see, 

Pictures Dixie, dear old Dixie, 
Just what Dixie used to be. 

Boys, when bad, would get a warn- 

Never a whipping in the South- 
Just a kindly word of warning 

From some mammy's soothing 
mouth : 
"Quality, now massa Johnny, listen, 

It does nothin' mean; 
Head erect and face out, forward; 

Keep your soul, sah, sweet and 
That was doctrine down in Dixie, 

From the center to the sea, 
Down in Dixie, dear old Dixie, 

Just what Dixie used to be. 

Home it was of noble women, 
Wives and mothers of our men 

Sanctified by Southern virtues 
In the hours of glory, when 

We had Jacksons, Lees and Johnsons, 
Men worth tons and tons of gold, 

When each name was held in honor 
And men's honor ne'er was sold. 

Gold has never measured manhood, 

Gold can never measure Lee; 
Gold can never measure Jackson, 

Nor the South from sea to sea. 
What dear Dixie loves is virtue, 

What it stands for is the truth, 
This they got from mothers, Jesus, 

This they gave to Southern youth. 
By the banks of Southern rivers, 

By the shores of Southern seas 
Men have died as brave as Bayard, 

Jacksons, Johnsons, Robert Lees, 
Even Lincoln from Kentucky, 

Had Virginia for his sire; 
'Twas Virginia's noble spirit 

Set young Lincoln's soul on fire. 
Let them give you gold and treasures, 

Wealth in mountains or in streams, 
But let the Southland keep the meas- 
That I've marked here in my dreams. 
For the Dixie, dear old Dixie, 

That our fathers knew of old, 
Was better far than fifty Dixies 

Measured by a mass of gold. 
And so I'll sing, but not in sorrow, 

For I'm sure what we shall see 

Will be Dixie, dear old Dixie, 
Just what Dixie used to be. 



Cranston Blakeley and Carter Town- 
send were students of Shelton Col- 
lege. They were, indeed, more than 
mere acquaintances, for when Blakeley 
had entered the school, his first friend 
and companion had been Townsend; 
and the relations that had begun be- 
tween these two gradually grew 
stronger until, in the course of a year, 
they had become bosom friends. 

Blakeley was captain of the track 
team, and, as an athlete Townsend 
was second only to him. It was late 
in February, and the day for the An- 
nual Track Meet with Midhurst Col- 
lege was near at hand. This event 
would decide the Interscholastic cham- 
pionship of the State. The members 
of the team, under the direction of 
experienced coaches, were training 
hard in order to get to the best pos- 
sible condition. The distance men 
could be seen early and late, slowly 
covering lap after lap of the quarter- 
mile track; the sprinters were prac- 
ticing short dashes; the weight men 
and jumpers in their respective places, 
were working to better themselves. 

At last the appointed day arrived. 
The weather was just crisp enough to 
lend zest to the sports; the college 
grounds were gracefully decorated for 
the occasion, and multitudes of gaily 
dressed men. women and children 

filled the stands, or wandered about 
the stadium. 

Suddenly the shrill blast of a whis- 
tle caused the grounds to be cleared, 
and at the announcement, "Hundred 
Yard Dash," seven clean-limbed 
young men bent low over their marks. 
As the starter's gun was fired, they 
darted off and sped desperately along 
the corded lanes toward the finish. 
Cheer followed cheer for Shelton 
when it was announced that Town- 
send had run it in ten seconds flat, 
with Blakeley a close second, and 
Stark, a Midhurst man, third. By 
this first event Shelton acquired a lead 
of seven points and was determined to 
retain it. 

The next event was the shot-put 
which Blakele}- won with an excellent 
heave of forty-three feet, two inches, 
breaking the Interscholastic record. 
Midhurst men were second and third. 
On top of this came the two hundred 
and twenty yard dash, which was won 
by Townsend, with a Midhurst man 
second, and Morris of Shelton, third. 

But here an accident occurred by 
which Shelton seemed destined for de- 
feat. Blakeley, having started in this 
dash, sprained his ankle and was 
forced to retire from the games ; and 
as he was counted upon to win the 
mile, the hammer-throw and the broad 



jump, his loss looked irreparable. 
Turner, the head coach, was in the 
throes of despair. Reluctantly he or- 
dered Blakeley to the club house to 
have his ankle cared for, and ap- 
pointed Townsend temporary captain 
of the team. Though the latter suc- 
ceeded in capturing the four-forty 
yard dash by a small margin, luck 
seemed to favor Midhurst, for by win- 
ning event after event, they soon tied 
the score. The mile run alone re- 
mained to decide the victory. 

Blakeley was to have run for Shel- 
ton and, as he was champion of the 
State at the distance, his loss was 
again keenly felt; nevertheless, Town- 
send, the sole entry for Shelton against 
five Midhurst men, resolutely toed the 
mark and resolved inwardly to win 
that race if it were the last he was 
ever to run. Again the revolver 
sounded and the deciding race was on. 

For the first quarter Townsend ran 
just a few paces behind two Midhurst 
men who were leading. At the half 
mile he was breathing heavily, as his 
work in the earlier races had begun 
to tell on him, and the distance be- 
tween the leaders and the lone, strug- 
gling Shelton man was increasing. 
Soon they passed the three-quarter 
post, and had started to spurt. 

But what was this? Townsend of 
Shelton, who seemed but a moment 
ago ready to fall, had suddenly in- 
creased his speed; the distance be- 
tween himself and the leaders was 

quickly decreased by one-half. Warned 
by the frenzied cheering of the crowd, 
they glanced around to see their oppo- 
nent rapidly gaining on them. They 
were then within two hundred yards 
of the tape, and they hoped by a des- 
perate spurt, to retain their lead to 
the end, but the moment they had lost 
in turning to see their adversary was 
fatal, for, with a burst of speed, amid 
the wild cheering of the Shelton 
stands, who saw their favorite saved 
almost miraculously from defeat, 
Townsend leaped past them and 
crossed the line a winner by several 
feet. He heard the time announced 
as four minutes, thirty-eight seconds, 
then his breain reeled, his knees grew 
weak, and he fell to the ground in a 

That night all was rejoicing in 
Shelton. Bon-fires were lighted, songs 
sung, meetings held, mirth and rev- 
elry held full sway. Yet despite all 
this celebration, one unhappy student, 
Roland Dawson, was to be found in 
Shelton. He had hoped in the begin- 
ning of the year to be elected captain 
of the track team ; but when Blakeley 
was chosen, he resigned from the 
team ; he even went further, for he 
actually pawned everything of value 
he owned and wagered it against his 
own college in the meet. When he 
saw, contrary to his hopes, Shelton 
victorious, he hurried to his room in 
a bitter frame of mind. While all 
others were indulging in honest rev- 



elry, he traitorously planned a scheme 
to hurt Blakeley, the man he foolishly 
hated as the cause of his ruin. 

In Blakeley's room, however, things 
were different. With his injured foot 
resting on a pile of cushions, he sat 
talking to his chum, Townsend, who 
had thrown himself on the bed, ex- 
hausted by his work that day. A 
crowd of students entered the room, 
and one of them approaching Town- 
send's bedside, shook his hand and 
feelingly said: "Townsend, these boys 
here, and myself, are convinced that 
such spirit and gameness as you have 
shown to-day, should not pass unre- 
warded, and though this gift but 
feebly expresses our appreciation, 
still, we know that you will under- 
stand from it, the esteem and regard 
in which you are held by us." Then, 
without giving the cripple time to re- 
ply, the spokesman and the others 
with a hasty "good-night" quickly 
left the room. Townsend, slowly re- 
covering from his surprise, opened the 
package. The present was a diamond 
pin. Needless to say, he was over- 
joyed to receive this mark of esteem 
from his fellow-students, and it was 
sometime before he and Blakeley fell 

This happiness, however, was not to 
continue long, for, as the news of the 
presentation spread through the col- 
lege, Dawson contrived a plan to get 
even with his enemies; with Blakeley, 
for having beaten him in the election 

for captaincy of the track team, and 
with Townsend, who was the cause of 
his money losses. 

One evening when they were out he 
entered their room. As luck would 
have it, the first object to meet his 
eye was the case containing the scarf- 
pin. Opening it, he withdrew the 
treasure, and then replaced the case 
in the place where he had found it. 
Then he cautiously left the room, con- 
jecturing all the while, that when the 
pin was missed, suspicion would 
surely fall on Blakeley. 

That same night, Townsend upon 
returning opened the case to take an- 
other look at the much -prized gift. 
What was his surprise, not to say dis- 
may, to find it gone? He asked 
Blakeley if he had seen it ,but the lat- 
ter was as much surprised as himself 
at its disappearance. The next day. 
as a diligent search failed to discover 
the missing pin, Townsend reported 
his loss. Immediately much indigna- 
tion was manifested by the students, 
and manv an evil glance was cast to- 
wards Blakeley, Townsend's room- 
mate, for it was known that the pin 
had never been taken from the room 
before. Dawson also took particular 
pains to further strengthen the suspi- 
cion, and gradually Blakeley found 
himself shunned by all who were for- 
merly his friends: bv all, save one, 
Townsend himself. The evidence be- 
ing so weighty against him, the Presi- 
dent of the college winhid to §*pe4 

CUB DAY "Photos hy Ball, Sexton, Martin and Stewart 

Entering College Grounds; 2. Catcher Needham; 3. A Cub rounding third; Tinker umpiring 
4. Infielder Kane. 5. Warming up. 6. Outfielder Miller 



him, but Townsend at once declared 
that if such a step were taken, he also 
would leave, as he was positive that 
his chunr was innocent. 

That very night when together in 
their room, wishing to show how he 
felt in this delicate matter, Blakeley 
said : "Townsend, I swear to you 
that I am innocent of this theft, and 
although things certainly look bad for 
me, were I to die the next minute, I 
would still protest my innocence. Tell 
me, Carter, do you think that I stole 
the pin?" 

Townsend slowly rose and walking 
to him, placed his arm on the shoulder 
of his chum and said: "Blakeley, old 
man, were every student and professor 
of this college against you, I would 
still treat you as my friend, for I know 
that you are as guiltless as I am. 
Cheer up, things will soon take a turn 
for the better and all will be right 

Blakeley much relieved by this frank 
assurance, took his hand saying, "I 
did not care what others thought of 
me, but I was afraid that you doubted 
my innocence. I thank you for your 
loyal words, and I promise that, if I 
ever have a chance to repay you, even 
though it should cost me my life, I 
will stand ready to help you." 

Having thus freed his mind from a 
thought that had worried him greatly, 
he slowly undressed, got into bed and 
slept soundly for the first time since 
the beginning of the trouble. 

Three weeks later, after Townsend 
had followed up every clue that might 
lead to the discovery of the thief, 
Dawson was detected with the pin in 
his possession and was publicly ex- 
pelled. Blakeley was once more sur- 
rounded by throngs of students con- 
gratulating him on this decisive veri- 
fication of his innocence. 

As the days rolled swiftly by, the 
friendship between these two chums 
became more deeply rooted, and as 
they parted for their homes upon the 
day of graduation, one might have no- 
ticed a dimness of the eye and a husk- 
iness of the voice when they said 
good-bye, for they thought they might 
never meet again. Townsend had ar- 
ranged to enter the United States 
Naval Academy at Annapolis in the 
fall, and Blakeley contemplated study- 
ing law at Columbia. 

Five years have passed since our 
two friends parted. Blakeley finished 
with honors his law course and re- 
turned to New Orleans, where he was 
introduced at the bar by an excellent 
firm. Within a year his splendid tal- 
ent merited him admission into the 
firm, and shortly after this success he 
married. At Mardi Gras the next 
year, the U. S. S. Iowa steamed into 
the harbor of New Orleans with 
Townsend, now a midshipman, on 
board. When Blakeley heard of his 
arrival he sought him out and gave 
him an invitation to his home. As 


Townsend was a stranger in New 
Orleans he gladly accepted it and 
was soon introduced to Mrs. Blakeley, 
who did all in her power to entertain 
her husband's old chum. His visit 
was thus made very enjoyable, but 
little did he think that an awful calam- 
ity was to end such happiness. 

One night after a dance at Blake- 
ley's home, while waiting for a car 
that would carry him to the levee, he 
was suddenly startled by the shrieks 
of a man evidently in great pain. 
Rushing to the spot he saw two men 
struggling fiercely. As he came up 
there was the flash of a knife and the 
weapon was plunged into the side of 
one of the men. Quickly Townsend 
opened his sailor's jack knife, threw 
himself recklessly upon the assassin 
and attempted to stab him, but his 
watchful opponent made a quick lunge 
in return and attempted at the same 
time to get away. Townsend eluded 
the blade, and before the villain could 
escape, plunged his own knife into his 
shoulder. The wound was not deadly, 
and with an oath the ruffian fled. 
Townsend then directed his attention 
to the wounded man who was dying 
from a stab in the left lung. Many 
people had heard the cries for help and 
soon reached the street corner. There 
was Townsend bending over the fallen 
man. He still held his knife, red with 
blood of the escaped murderer. In his 
hurry to aid the wounded victim he 
had forgotten to put it back in his 

pocket. Although he protested his 
innocence, he was instantly arrested. 
Blakeley had come with the crowd, 
and knowing that his friend was the 
innocent victim of a terrible mistake, 
tried every effort to have him released 
on bond. The next morning he en- 
deavored by political influence to ob- 
tain for his friend the benefit of bail, 
but his efforts in both cases were un- 
availing. With the exception of Blake- 
ley and his wife, there was no one in- 
terested in the coming trial who be- 
lieved Townsend's innocence could be 
proved. Every day he visited him in 
prison, and with many a loyal word 
did much to cheer him. 

At last the day of the trial came. 
As the slain man had been very promi- 
nent in political circles, and had been 
unable to make any statement before 
dying, it seemed certain that Town- 
send would be convicted. Add to this, 
the prosecuting attorney was a very 
powerful lawyer, and a personal friend 
of the dead man. Against such odds 
Blakeley was to pit his own best ef- 
forts and eloquence, upheld by a firm 
belief in God's justice and his friend's 
innocence ; for truly did he remember 
how, not many years before, Town- 
send had stood by him in like circum- 

Owing to the great importance of 
the case, long before the trial was to 
begin the court room was crowded. 
In a chair near the dock sat Mrs. 
Townsend. She had come over from 



Mobile at the first news of the arrest 
and was now painfully undergoing the 
merciless torture of the trial. In spite 
of the consolations of an older son 
who stayed at her side, the tears were 
stealing down her haggard cheeks. 
Though never doubting her son's inno- 
cence, she understood how dark 
things looked for him. 

At ten o'clock, the hour appointed 
for the opening of the trial, the judge 
and jury took their seats, and the pre- 
liminary invocation was made. Mr. 
Ashland commenced for the prosecu- 
tion. He dwelt long and earnestly 
upon the tell-tale evidence, the merits 
of the dead man, his loss to the city ; 
and when he had finished, the convic- 
tion of the prisoner seemed a foregone 
conclusion. Indeed many felt it would 
be unnecessary for the jury to leave 
the room. 

Then Blakeley took up the defence. 
Alone he had accepted the case ; for 
one by one the more prominent law- 
yers of the city had refused to take it. 
Some seeing its apparent hopelessness, 
had even tried to persuade him to 
abandon it, saying that it would ruin 
his reputation and future practice; but 
they might as well have tried to 
change the rivers from their course. 
No, he had undertaken the defence 
alone, and alone was going to engage 
in battle with one of the most notable 
criminal lawyers of the country. He 
had spent days and nights in prepara- 
tion, had prayed for his success, and 

now that the crucial moment was at 
hand, he shrank not from the contest. 

Calmly he rose from his seat. With 
pale face, steady eye and flushed brow, 
he faced the assemblage. He began 
by granting the enormity of the crime, 
and the fact that in accordance with 
the law, the murderer should be prop- 
erly punished. Next, he related in full 
his client's account of the case, and 
then yielded the floor to the prosecu- 
tion and its witnesses. . 

Again Mr. Ashland arose. Survey- 
ing the jury in a haughy manner, he 
began : "Gentlemen, we are here to- 
day to debate as to the innocence or 
guilt of the prisoner. If innocent, 
gladly do I say discharge him ; but if 
guilty, sorrowfully do I insist that the 
law take its course. Is he innocent? 
Long have I weighed this question in 
mind, and keeping within the bounds 
of reason, I have concluded that it is 
impossible to consider him so.. There 
were no witnesses to the crime, it is 
true, but you have heard the sworn 
statements of many, who have testi- 
fied to their having seen him, knife in 
hand, bending over the fallen man, and 
as the wounds upon Mr. Reynolds' 
body were inflicted by a weapon such 
as his, we can but conclude that the 
accused is the murderer. As I have 
said before, we have no witnesses to 
the crime itself, but what need have 
we of greater evidence than this? You 
have also heard his story. But, gen- 
tlemen, any one, when caught in his 



position, red-handed as it were, would 
make similar excuses. Were such 
crimes as this let go unpunished, law- 
lessness would increase to such a pass, 
that it would be unsafe for us to en- 
trust our wives and children, aye, our 
very selves, alone upon the street. 
Therefore, gentlemen, I pray you, for 
the common safety, as lovers of justice 
and God-fearing citizens, mete out to 
this man the punishment he deserves." 
Then Blakeley began his final ap- 
peal to the jury. "Gentlemen," he said, 
"you are doubtless aware of the ties of 
friendship that bind me to the ac- 
cused, but I would not have you be- 
lieve that I contend for his acquittal 
on such grounds; rather, it is because 
I myself believe him innocent, and I 
feel that I have at hand arguments 
sufficiently strong to establish his in- 
nocence with you. Gentlemen, if, as 
my opponent has urged, the accused 
had committed the crime, do you think 
that he would have remained on the 
scene of the murder until the crowd 
had gathered in answer to the victim's 
calls? Such action would point to two 
things — that the murder was premedi- 
tated, and that the murderer was rely- 
ing on this clever ruse to shield him 
from suspicion. These two supposi- 
tions are untenable in accusing my 
client of the murder. First, my client 
had never met Mr. Reynolds before. 
In proof of this, you have heard sev- 
eral members of Mr. Reynolds' family 
testify that he had never been away 

from New Orleans. You have also 
heard the testimony of other credible 
witnesses state that Mr. Townsend 
had never before visited New Orleans. 
Therefore, as they had never met pre- 
viously, it is extremely difficult, if not 
impossible, to believe that Mr. Town- 
send, meeting Mr. Reynolds upon the 
street for the first time, deliberately 
murdered him in cold blood. 

"Secondly, his conduct has ever been 
honorable, therefore he could never 
have descended to such a clever bit of 
acting to throw off suspicion. The 
possible explanation for so unreason- 
able a crime would be insanity. But 
you have also heard numerous wit- 
nesses taken at random from among 
his acquaintances, swear that he had 
never shown the slightest mental de- 
rangement, or any signs of murderous 
propensities. These antecedents, gen- 
tlemen, clearly demonstrate that the 
accused could have no reasonable mo- 
tive for the crime. Moreover, justice 
as you know, in a case of doubt leans 
to the side of mercy, and rather than 
have one innocent man hung upon 
weak circumstantial evidence, she 
would have ten guilty escape.. Con- 
sider, then, gentlemen, this case thor- 
oughly, and when you have fully and 
conscientiously examined it as loyal, 
upright and incorruptible citizens of 
our great country, cast your vote in 
favor of the side you believe to be 
true and leave the rest to God." 

Here the defence rested, and the 



prosecution declining to pursue the 
case further, it was presented to the 
jury. Two hours later they returned 
the verdict as follows : 

"Whereas, in the course of our 
earnest efforts to probe into the 
true nature of the case, we have 
unanimously agreed that the 
charge of murder against Carter 
Townsend is false, and should ac- 
cordingly be withdrawn. There- 
fore we pronounce the defendant 
not guilty." 

This good news falling with such 
suddenness on Mrs. Townsend's ears 
caused her to faint. The strain had 
been too great and she had to be carried 
from the court room. Heaven had 
sent her relief when she felt herself 
tottering on the brink of despair. 
Blakeley was the first to congratulate 
his friend, and few can comprehend 
the violence of the feelings that surged 
in their breasts as they stood together. 

But these felicitations were cut 
short by a sudden commotion in the 
back of the court room, when a man 
with a heavy beard, rushed out of the 
crowd, declaring that Townsend was 
guilty; that he was present at the 
murder and had seen him strike the 
man. Townsend for a moment stood 
dazed, then with a sudden light flash- 
ing in his eyes, he exclaimed: 

"There is the real murderer ; I can 

recognize him through his false beard. 
Hold him, and if you desire more 
proof, lay bare his shoulder and see 
the mark of my knife." Two officers 
approached to seize the stranger, but 
he, pulling off his beard, instantly lev- 
elled a revolver at Townsend and 
laughed in triumph. "I'll fix you," he 
said. "Roland Dawson does not for- 
get an injury, though years intervene." 

Blakeley seeing the danger, leaped 
forward to disarm him, but before he 
could accomplish this he fell gasping to 
the floor with a bullet in his breast. 
A detective fired and killed Dawson. 

The killing of the assassin passed 
unheeded by Townsend. Kneeling at 
the side of the man who had lately 
saved his life, both by his eloquence 
and the sacrifice of his own, he sobbed : 

"Blakeley, dear fellow, forgive me 
for ever bringing you to this. I would 
to Heaven that I had died instead." 
The dying one feebly answered: 

"I am sinking fast, and know that no 
man can help me. Hear what I have 
to say. Give my love to my wife, and 
say that I died thinking of her. As 
to forgiving you, old chum, there is 
nothing to forgive. I have only re- 
paid the debt that I have owed you for 
so many years. I know it is hard to 
go, but God calls. His will be done. 

And thus passed Townsend's friend. 
A. C. Ball, '10. 




(William M. Walsh, '08.) 

Death's voice. The summoned youth arose; 

Life's hopes he doff'd and robe of clay; 
A mother's joy, a father's pride, 

Exchang'd earth's night for heaven's day. 

Full many see their locks grow hoary 

With the gather'd frost of hast'ning years, 

Yet have fail'd for Death to garner 
Peace that banisheth all fears. 

Above him raise no broken shaft, 
No sign of something incomplete, 

No emblem of youth's brightest hopes 
Wreck'd on the shore of dread defeat ; 

Above his grave erect ye not 

A robed pillar unentire. 
Nor symbol of unfinish'd day 

That we must mourn in dark attire ; 

Nor yet in mem'ry of our dear one. 
Rear sculptured monument to say 

How all too soon he left the world 
Amid the dawning of his day ; 

tor fear, insooth, men passing by 

Might judge that there beneath the sod 

Asleep lies one who failed to bring 
Life's golden harvest to his God. 

Thy hand did firmly clasp the Cross; 

God's priest was near thy bed of pain. 
Soft burn'd within the light of faith 

And barr'd Death's darksome, grewsome 

Amid the sighs and whisper'd words 

Of priest and dear ones there, 
Thine eyes; upon the dying Christ, 

Upon thy lips we hear the pray'r : 

"I am prepar'd to meet thee. Death, 

If God will have it so. 
Sweet Virgin, take me by the hand 

And guide me as I go." 

Then clos'd thine eyes forevermore 
Upon the scenes of earthly mould. 

To gaze, T trow, in joy and bliss 
Upon the glories manifold. 

For tho' the call from earth was sudd'n, 
Yet not in earth his heart, his treasure. 

His life was pure, his faith was strong; 
It is by these man's life we measure. 

No! not by years we reckon life, 
Nor yet by gold or praises high ; ; 

But life and its success is this : 
To God be true and pure-soul'd die. 

Dear loving hearts, weep we no more ; 

Nor think on things that might have been. 
God wills the best, trust then in Him, 

And raise our thoughts above earth's din. 

In mansions beautiful above, 
Our lov'd one dwells for aye secure. 

Let us so live that we may die 
Like him — as fearless and as pure. 

J. M. W.. '03 


Students of Spring Hill College 

Spring Hill, Ala. 

subscription, 50 cents. single copies, 25 cents. 

All remittances, literary contributions and business letters should be addressed: 

Stye UprtitgljtUiatt, ©pnttg IftU (EnUeg?, spring, SjtU Ala. 

— — — — 1 - ' -— 












Return of 

Never did Easter usher 
in a Spring so full of the 
charms of our South- 
land ; never were the College gardens 
more luxuriantly bedecked with aza- 
leas, pink and white, with clustering 
wistaria and teeming japonicas, while 
variegated rose-blooms mingle their 
tints with the sombre green of the 
Aurea Biota. Every view of the sur- 
rounding woods reveal the lavish pro- 
fusion of Laurel and Dogwood, Jass- 
mine and Blood-root; and from purple 
dawn to crimson eve, the 'woods and 
the gardens ring with the mockers' 
roundelay. All praise to the beneficent 
God at whose bidding the Winter has 
passed and the flowers have appeared 
in our land. 

Helping the 
College Paper 

With the innovation 
of a new name, and a 
new cover design, 
comes the ambitious thought that the 
time is ripe for increasing the number 
of issues and placing our college mag- 
azine among the quarterlies; after- 
wards to be raised, by more capable 
hands, to the dignity of a monthly. 

In reading over the recent issues of 
some of our numerous exchanges, no- 
tably the Georgetown Journal, we re- 
gretfully learn that the students of 
some -institutions do not support their 
college paper as loyal students should. 
Georgetown has a journal of which 
any university might well be proud, 


and it is to be deplored that the editors 
of a magazine which for years has been 
second to none in college journalism, 
should at length find themselves in 
such a distressing situation. The mas- 
terly manner in which the editor of 
that publication replies in the March 
issue, to a letter suggesting ''reforma- 
tion," deserves special commendation 
and praise. 

While it grieves us to know that 
there are instances of such lack of loy- 
alty, we can but feel happy at perceiv- 
ing the daily growth of literary en- 
thusiasm among the boys and a readi- 
ness to work for the success of The 

K of C 


A source of much gratifi- 
cation to us was the visit 
of Professor James C. 
Monaghan, national lecturer for the 
Knights of Columbus. Thanks to Mr. 
M. Mahorner, J 94, member of National 
Board of Directors, an opportunity 
was given to Faculty and Students of 
hearing this renowned speaker, and of 
realizing how great a work, in the in- 
terest of religion and literature, the 
Knights are accomplishing by their 
system of national lectures. We doubt 
if a better means could be devised to 
refine the Catholic minds of the coun- 
try and to bring home to them the 
power and beauty of their Catholic 




Word from Montgomery brings 
'83 the good news that John P. 
Kohn, '83, is a candidate for 
mayor with bright prospects for his 
election. Mr. Kohn has the best 
wishes of Alma Mater that he may at- 
tain that high honor, and win, as we 
are sure his sterling qualities deserve, 
the esteem and confidence of the citi- 
zens of Montgomery. 

At the annual meeting of the 
'84 Jesuit Alumni Association of 

New Orleans, on January 21, 
Judge John St. Paul was unanimously 
re-elected to the office of president. 
This is the fifth time this distinguished 
honor has been his, and The Spring- 
hillian congratulates New Orleans on 
so happy a choice. 

We are glad to learn of the pro- 
'94 motion to the position of Vice- 
President and Cashier of the 
Cochrane State Bank of Cochrane, 
Alabama, of A. J. Staub, Jr., '94. 

When news came from Au- 
'08- gusta, Ga., that Rev. P. J. Phil- 
'09 lipe, Vice-President, '08-'09, was 
so seriously afflicted in one of 
his eyes as to necessitate his giving up 
the scientific work in which he was so 
successfully engaged, the feeling of 
sympathy was general and heartfelt. 
This misfortune was most untimely, 
interrupting, as it did, his researches 
in the mysteries of Wireless Telegra- 
phy. Several of his lectures on this 
subject were heard by distinguished 
scientists of that city, and they and 
the press were loud in their praise of 
the lucid and simple manner in which 
he brought this subject within the 
grasp of the people. The Springhillian 
hopes that Fr. Phillipe will soon be 
back to the laboratory in his former 
good health. 

The boys of '09 will be glad to 
'09 know, if the newspaper accounts 

have not reached them, that 
John Brown, our star second baseman, 
has "made good" at Tulane in the 
short-field position on Tulane Varsity. 



Besides shining on the diamond, lie 
also starred before the footlights on 
"Tulane Night." With him were C. 
AicMaster, ex '08, and T. S. Walmsley, 
ex '09, and the skit, it is reported, 
which they presented so creditably, 
was their own invention. 


Etienne J. Marion, 78, the well 
'78 known druggist, died at his 

home in New Orleans on Janu- 
ary 9. After leaving Spring Hill, he 
advanced with rapid strides to the 
height of his profession, and won on 
all sides the proud reputation of char- 
acter and learning. His death was a 
truly Christian one, as his life had 
been. The Sprmghillian extends its 
sympathy to the brothers and only sis- 
ter who mourn his loss. 

A heavy cross was laid by God's 
'78 sweet Providence, on our fel- 
low-student, John B. Rives, '13, 
when his beloved father, Joel E. Rives, 
78, was called to the next world. His 
death was a happy one, fortified, as 
it was, with all the solace of religion. 
The Freshman Class, of which John 
is a member, went in a body to Com- 
munion for the repose and welfare of 
his soul. 

In the Picayune for December 
'88 28, occurs the account of the 
death of one of Spring Hill's 
most honored sons. We quote : 

"It was with profound regret in pro- 
fessional, social and military circles 
and, it may be said, by all classes of 
this city, that the sad news was re- 
ceived yesterday of the death at an 
early hour in the morning of Dr. John 
J. Archinard, A. B., '88, one of the 
best known and most esteemed among 
the physicians of New Orleans. He 
was still in the prime of life when the 
supreme summons came, and with his 
splendid physique and rugged consti- 
tution he gave promise of a long life. 
But at the age of 38 years, and after 
only a few days of illness, he was 
stricken by the inexorable hand of 
death, leaving a large number of rela- 
tives to mourn his untimely demise." 

While the news of the passing 
'09 away of Luke Faget, so well re- 
membered by the boys of the 
last few years, was sad in the extreme, 
the details of his beautiful death, so 
sweetened by the consolations of our 
Faith, give to the memory a lasting 
picture of one who, short of days, 
learned well the sublime lesson of edu- 
cation — how to die well. His dear 
family have the heartiest sympathy of 
Faculty and Students. 

To F. P. Chalin, '09, in the loss 
'09 of his father, and to T. V. Cra- 
ven, '09, in the death of his 
grandfather, The Springhillian takes 
this opportunity of tendering its con- 




%. Brcksr, HZ 

On Jan. 4, the boys re- 
turned to College after a 
two weeks Christmas va- 
reported an enjoyable 
time. It did not take long for them 
to realize that the whirl of festivity 
had ceased, and that the preparation 
for the half-yearly examination was in 
order, calling for serious study. 

After the 

cation. All 


The Annual Retreat began 
on the evening of January 
9. The exercises were conducted by 
Rev. J. F. O'Connor, S. J., Provincial 
of the Southern Province of Jesuits. 
A thoroughly Catholic spirit of piety 
and devotion was manifested by both 
divisions. It is to be hoped that, the 
good fruits gathered during those 
three days of retirement, meditation 
and prayer, will be treasured up and 
multiplied during the rest of the year. 

Lee's Birthday 

Patriotic airs, ren- 
dered by the Senior 
and Junior bands re-echoed through- 
out the Southern porticoes of the Col- 
lege on January 19, the birthday of 
the greatest General in Southern war- 
fare. After a stirring eulogy on that 
loved leader by the President, the 

i. S. TOarau, 'U 

boys dispersed to enjoy the half holi 
day granted in honor of Lee. 


The class of Chemistry en- 
tertained the Faculty and 

Students for one or two 
hours on Feb. 2. The two lecturers, 
Sidney Braud, A. B. '10, and Albert 
Hahn, B. S. '10, handled their subjects 
with great skill and fluency, while 
their thorough experiments, in every 
instance successful, held the attention 
of all. L. Lavretta, A. B. '10, T. 
Byrne, B. S. '10, and H. Costello, B. S. 
'10, deserve great praise for the able 
way in which they assisted the exper- 


"Dowe's Dusky Dewdrops," 
enlivened the afternoon of 
Tuesday, Feb. 8., by a min- 
strel performance not below the 
standard set in previous years. Dug- 
gan, Pardue and Black were the song 
artists that received ovations in every 
turn of the programme. Becker, how- 
ever, shone as the evening star in that 
"twilight" gathering. After supper a 
dance brought the carnival celebration 
to a close. 




Nothing could have 
been more pleasant 
J * * • and profitable than 

the visit to Spring Hill, of Prof. J. C. 
Monaghan, National Lecturer of the 
Knights of Columbus. On his arrival 
Friday evening, March 11, the bands 
gave an informal concert in his honor. 
When the music was over, the Pro- 
fessor addressed a few words to the 
gathered Faculty and Students in the 
course of which he recited the poem, 
"What Dixie Used to Be," with a 
charm of manner and tone that won 
every Southern heart. In memory of 
the occasion we have published the 
poem on another page. The next 
morning he returned and delivered his 
well-known lecture, "How the Other 
Half Lives." It was full of the fin- 
ished touches of the artist and the 
Knight, who interprets the molding 
influence of Catholicism on the civili- 
zation of the world. 

Our Patron's 

St. Patrick's 

The Sons of Erin gave 
vent to their devotion 
to Ireland's Patron 
Saint, by an unique parade in his 
honor, in which everyone of Irish de- 
scent figured conspicuously. Knowing 
that France was once the home of the 
Saint, not a few of that nationality 
were lined up in the procession. The 
serenade at the home of Mr. Thomas 
Byrne was the feature of the celebra- 

Bishop Allen was our 
guest on the feast day 
of our College Pa- 
tron, and all were glad to have his 
Lordship in our midst again. His ad- 
dress to the boys was brief and happy, 
and an ovation followed when the 
Bishop mentioned a holiday. In the 
evening, before a shrine of St. Joseph, 
beautifully adorned by the careful 
hands of some of the Sodalists, the 
usual hymns were sung in concert, 
with every mark of devotion and love. 


March 22 was rendered mem- 
orable by the visit of the 
World's Champion Cubs to 
our College, where they took part in a 
game against our boys. It was a 
pleasure, long to be remembered, to 
see such "stars" as Reulbach, Moran, 
Needham, Kane and Luderus cavort- 
ing around our diamond, with Tinker, 
who did not relish the idea of a 
"doubleheader" in our tropical heat, 
acting as umpire. 

The team was brought to the Col- 
lege in automobiles furnished by 
Messrs. Van Heuvel, Duggan and M. 
Mahorner; and the jovial, courteous 
spirit of the players won for them 
many friends. At the request of Mr. 
Moran and Mr. Needham, the 'Varsity 
was allowed to be present at the even- 
ing game against Mobile as guests of 
the Cubs. All reported an enjoyable 




November 3, 1909. 


First Part 

Glow-Worm Lincke 

College Orchestra 

Barn Dance Henry 

Second Division Band 

Old Faithful Holzmann 

First Division Band 

Second Part 

The Life of Cicero W. H. Kelly 

The Charm of Cicero's Oratory S. Riffel 

The Speech of Marcellus J. Bauer 

December 1, 1909. 
An Afternoon with Lanier 


Love's Fancies — Valse Lincke 

College Orchestra 
Prince Rupert's Overture F. Luscombe 

Second Division Band 

The Myth— Gavotte Hawley 

First Division Band 
Sidney Lanier — A Biographical Sketch 

George L. Mayer 
An Appreciation of the Poet 

Maximo H. Diar 
Declamation— The Revenge of Hamish 

• Benjamin A. Dolson 

%z\mzz Clllass 

February 2, 1910. 

In the Chemical Laboratory 

Fresh Flowers — Waltz ..Lincke 

College Orchestra 

Phlogiston, the Flami* Principle. . .Lecture 

"Nothing in nature is to the unin- 
structed eye more mysterious than a 
flame. It is seemingly body without sub- 
stance, and shape without coherence. It 
is created by a spark and annihilated by 
a breath. Invulnerable itself, it destroys 
what it touches. Divided, subdivided, it 
is still the same, yet endowed with the 
power of resolving other materials into 
their elements." 

Lecturer Sidney F. Braud, Sen. 

Assistant J. Lawrence Lavretta, Sen. 

Cherry in the Glass Lincke 

College Orchestra 
The Midnight Sun — Recitation 

James E. Duggan, Sen. 
Chemical Changes Lecture 

(1) History. 

(2) The first working hypotheses. 

(3) The laws governing chemical 


(4) Theories and the true explanation 

of chemical changes. 

(5) Chemical affinity. 

Lecturer Albert J. Hahn, Sup. 

Assistants ....Christopher H. Costello, Sup. 
Edward J. Kevlin, Sup. 

Jolly Students— Waltz N. Brown 

Second Division Band 

Phenomenal Polka Laurendme 

First Division Band 

4 8 


March 2,1910 


Duet for Cornet and Clarinet. . .Mendelssohn 
Accompanied by 
College Orchestra 

Serenade Schubert 

College Orchestra 

The Jolly Blacksmiths Paull 

Second Division Band 

The Storm King Braham-Paull 

First Division Band 


Latin Declamation — In Catilinam 

Daunis E. Braud 

Paper — The Characters in the Lady of the 
Lake Francis L. Prohaska 

Declamation — The Combat from the Lady of 
the Lake Francis L. Smith 

Stninx frzaizmg 

March 28, 1910. 


Cherry in the Glass Lincke 

College Orchestra 
Declamation — "The Face on the Floor" 

J. O'FHnn 

Reading from Charles Lamb... P. Turregano 
Song — "Italian Boatmen's Song" 

Rev. E. Baehr, S. J. 
Declamation — "A Mysterious Guest". M. Diaz 

Essay— "Reading" C. Ball 

Song— "No One Knows" L. Ball 

f J. Becker 
The Schoolmaster < .B. Dolson 

[ C. Black 

Song— "The Evening Star" L. Lavretta 

Narration— "Friends at Last" A. Martel 

Essay — "Education" A. Hahn 

Song— "Roses" L. Ball 

Reading from Mark Twain C. Black 

Song— "I Love You Truly" L. Lavretta 

First ^taAtmxt 


April 6, 1910 

Overture — Poet and Peasant Suppe 

College Orchestra 

Introductory Remarks R. Needham 

Recitation — The Gladiator L. Adams 

Multum in Parvo The Class 

r,- , ^ f A - Ziegler 

Rival Orators | R DucQte 

March— Thundercloud F. H. Losey 

Second Division Band 

Polka— The Pals G. D. Barnard 

First Division Band 



Spring has arrived at last. This is 
a wonderful season in these parts, and 
causes many things to come out, such 
as the hair on Lord Raphael's head, 
Diamond Joe's colored suit, and a 
quantity of jokes and knocks, amonj 
which are the following: 

New Victim: "I hate to go to class 
when I haven't got my lesson."- 

The Sulky Soph : "Oh ! you'll be all 
right when you get used to it." 

Jimmie after swiping two pies from 
the kitchen "2 II R mine." 

Pleasants missed the last car at 
Jones street and was kept out in the 
cold all night. 

What's the saddest thing of tongue or 

'Twas when the bike broke down with 

Poetic Pat: "How can I use this 
word 'cynosure ?' " 

Prosaic Pete : "Put it in this phrase, 
'The cynosure of wandering eyes.' " 

Poetic Pat: "Yes, but I don't mean 
the second gallery on a Sunday." 

We know you are bashful Mistric, 
but why did you keep that blush for 
two weeks after the ball kissed you? 

Johnnie Moreda says come to him 
for all particulars concerning the gen- 
tle art of sneezing. 

"O'Neil asked the Vice-President 
to excuse him from the examinations." 

"What did he tell him?" 

"Told him that nothing but death 
could excuse him and then they would 
hold a post-mortem examination." 

Astronomy professor: "I will de- 
vote this afternoon in telling you 
about Halley's Comet." 

Dug to Fatty: "He had better tell 
it right. I saw it the last time it was 

Tailor to bawling John : "What 
bust, sir, what bust?" 

Moreda in astonishment: "I didn't 
hear anything break." 

The social side of the Peanut trust 
has been greatly reduced, owing to the 
fact that the members have not yet 
completed their penances for Lent. 

Professor after explaining meaning 
of logarithms: "Now what is a 
logarithm ?" 

Drags, the pious : "It is ten times a 
certain number, raised and re-raised, 
then called." 

Who never passes a mirror without 
looking into it? Answer. 

Big Ed : "Terry, old Toomey is a 
pretty good fellow." 

Old pop of the nursery, "Yes and he 
is generous, too; yesterday when we 
were standing by the store he came 
up and said, 'What are we going to 
have — Latin or Greek next hour?'" 



William %. Ntoasi, '10 

». H. 0. 7, flfabtl* Stars 2 

On February 13, the College opened 
the 1910 season with an easy victory 
over the Mobile Stars. The game 
proved a good practice one for the 
Varsity. Coach Sentell and Moreda, 
the College second catcher, were the 
battery for the visitors. Though one 
sided, the game was made interesting 
by the heavy hitting and snappy field- 
ing of our boys. Pardue and Sentell 
featured with the stick, each getting a 
homer. Pardue, throughout the game, 
worked well, striking out 15, giving 
only one base on balls, allowing but 
two hits. The score : 

Mobile Stabs 

. . A.B 






Moreda, C 






Sentelle, P 





Brown, C. F. 




Pocasc, 3rd B. . . 



Browning, S. S. 





Thomas, 2nd B. . . 




Chambers, 1st B. . 




Blow, L. F 



Benson, R. F. 




. . 31 






Spring Hill 







B. Dolson, S. S. .. 





Firment, C. F. ... 





Pardue, P 









Nicrosi, 3rd B. 


Walsh, L. F 



J. Dolson, 2nd B. . 





Black, C 







Becker, R. F 





Riffel, 1st B 





. 38 






Score by innings 123456789 
Mobile Stars..... 10 10 
Spring Hill 2 10 12 0* 

S.H.& 21, Barton 3 

On Robert E. Lee's birthday, Feb. 
19, the Varsity had an easy time. The 
victims were the boys from Barton 
Academy, who also had been coached 
by Sentell. The Varsity administered 
an overwhelming defeat to the visitors, 
the final count being 21 runs, 16 hits 
and 21 stolen bases for the College, 
against three runs, four hits and two 
stolen bases for the Mobilians. The 
game did not allow any particular one 
to star. 

O'Flinn, of last year's second league 
fame, started in for the Collegians, and 



although he had good speed, he was 
lacking in control. To give the Var- 
sity some fielding practice and to 
make the contest more interesting, 
Becker relieved him in the fifth inn- 
ing, Pardue going to tight, and Black 
behind the bat. Barton used two 
pitchers, neither of whose delivery 
seemed to worry S. H.'s batters. The 
score : 

Barton Academy... A.B. R. H. P.O. A. E. 

Moulton, L. F 2 

Brown, 2nd B 4 

Moslander, R. F 4 

Buck, 3rd B. & P. . . 3 

Boykin, 1st B 3 

Howell, C 3 

Gaines, S. S 2 

Woods, C. F 1 

Blow, P. & 3rd B.. . 4 

Total 26 

Spring Hill A.B. R. H. P.O. A. E. 

B. Dolson, S. S. . . . 4 2 2 5 1 2 

Firment, C. F 6 4 1 3 

Becker, R. F. & P. . . 6 3 3 1 

Nicrosi,(Capt.)3rdB. 4 2 2 3 3 

Walsh, L. F 4 2 2 

J. Dolson, 2nd B. . . 6 1 1 1 3 1 

Riffel, 1st B 6 1 2 10 1 

Moreda, C 2 1 1 2 

O'Flinn, P 1 1 3 2 

Pardue, R. F 2 2 1 1 

Black, C 2 2 1 2 3 2 

Total 43 21 16 27 14 8 

Score by innings 123456789 
Barton Academy 110000001 
Spring Hill .... 32007027* 

S. H. <SL 4, Jtihtotrs 2 

Sunday, February 20, the Athletics 
met the College nine. Everything 
seemed to indicate an interesting- 






























game. Ery was in the box for them, 
and while the score does not show 
that he was hit hard, yet he was wild, 
and when he managed to get one of his 
benders over the plate, it was generally 
met square on the nose. Only good 
fielding kept the score down. In the 
second inning, Black drove a liner 
over left field fence for a home run. 
As the game was late in starting, and 
on account of the inclement weather, 
it was called at the end of the seventh. 
Score : 

Athletics .... 
Drayton, S. S. 
Benson, C. F. . 
Fornell, 2nd B. 
Cofegan, 2nd B. 

Thomas, C 

Benedick, 1st B. 
Ery, P. & 2nd B 
McGraw, C. F. 
F. Benedick, R. F 

& P 

Sprtng Hill . . 
B. Dolson, S. S 
Firmen.t, C. F. 

Pardue, P 

Nicrosi (Capt.) 3d 
Walsh, L, F. .. 
J. Dolson, 2nd B 

Black, C 

Riffel, 1st B. . . 
Becker, R. F. 

A.B. R. H. P.O. A. E. 





A.B. R. H. P.O. A. F. 


3 21 

2 3 4 5 6 7 8 

10 2 0* 

Score by innings 1 


SnrinT Hill 1 

g. flL CL 9, TO. ©. TO. 3 

Feb. 27. The next game was with 
the Woodmen of the World. Ery 



again essayed to pitch — this time in a 
Woodmen of the World uniform. The 
visitors were the first to score. In the 
opening inning Calametti led off with 
a single, but Black threw him out 
stealing second. Then Thomas sin- 
gled, stole second and reached third 
on a fielder's choice. Cofegan scored 
him with a hit. For the College B. 
Dolson walked, reached second on a 
hit of Firment and scored on Pardue's 
single. On a wild throw of Ery, Fir- 
ment reached third and Pardue second. 
Nicrosi got to first on an error. On a 
wild throw to third to catch Firment, 
the latter scored, Pardue and Nicrosi 
advancing each a base. Walsh and 
Black ended the scoring by striking 
out. In the second round neither side 
scored, but the third proved fatal for 
the visitors. Pardue led off with a 
single, but was forced at second on a 
grounder by Nicrosi, who reached 
first on the play. 
The score : 

w - O. W a.B. R. H. P.O. A. E. 

Calametti, 2nd B. . . 3 1 3 3 1 

Thomas, C 2 1 1 3 

McGraw, R. P 4 1 3 

Cofegan, 3rd B 4 2 2 

Farnell, S. S 4 2 2 2 

Hacker, 1st B 4 1 5 3 

Benson, C. F 3 1 

Benedick, C 2 1 8 1 

Ery, P 3 1 2 

Total 29 3 5 27 10 5 

Spring Hili, A.B. R. H. P.O. A. E. 

B. Dolson, S. S 4 1 1 3 5 

Firment, C. F 5 1 1 

Pardue, P 4 2 3 

Nicrosi, 3rd B 5 1 1 2 1 

Walsh, L. F 5 2 2 3 1 

J. Dolson, 2nd B. . . 5 2 1 12 

Black, C 2 1 1 9 1 1 

Becker, R. F 4 1 1 

Riffel, 1st B. 3 8 1 1 

Total 37 9 9 27 13 3 

Score by innings 123456789 

W. O. W 1 2 

Spring Hill 2 5 2 * 

S. H. 0. 8, Kmmxz 4 

The Beavers were defeated Sunday, 
March 14, on our campus by the score 
of 8-3. Pardue was in his usual fine 
form and allowed his opponents only 
one bingle — Beardsley hitting a clean 
one in the fifth inning. 

Spring Hill started in to win in the 
first inning. Firment, first man up, 
hit for a home run. Pardue got a life 
on an error of third baseman, and 
scored on Nicrosi's two-bagger, Spring 
Hill added three in the seventh, and 
three more in the eighth. The Beavers 
made their only runs in the second. It 
happened thus: Zieman hit to short 
and the ball was fumbled. Roos, 
Beardsley and Leslie were passed 
forcing Zieman in. A wild throw by 
Pardue, and an error by Nicrosi, let 
in two other runs. The score: 


Penny, 1st B. 
Neeley, 3rd B. . 
Martin, C. F. . 
Zieman, S. S. . 
Roos, 2nd B. . . 
Beardsley, C. F. 
Leslie, R. F. . 

A.B. R. H. P.O. A. E. 

3 9 

to to 
o r* 


h[) 09 

P 3* 


hrt o 

• 7? 


3 to 
- » 



Pierre, C 4 12 2 1 

Kelly, P 30 5 

Total 30 4 2 24 10 2 

Spring Hill A.B. R. H. P.O. A. E. 

B. Dolson, S. S. ... 4 2 2 1 

Firment, C. F 5 2 3 1 

Pardue, P 4 3 2 1 1 2 

Nicrosi, 3rd B 4 1 3 1 1 1 

Walsh, L. F. ...... 3 1 1 

J. Dolson, 2nd B. . . 3 3 3 

Black, C 3 1 1 13 1 1 

Becker, R. F 3 1 1 

Riffel, 1st B 4 1 5 1 1 

Total 33 

12 27 9 6 

Score by innings 123456789 

Beavers 4 

Spring Hill 2000003 3* 

Vattims* 9, g. H. Od. 5 

March 20 witnessed our first defeat. 
The Pastime Club of Mobile were the 
victors. Although each side got the 
same number of hits, ragged fielding 
behind Pardue cost Spring Hill the 
game. It was the first bad day for our 
boys this season. The stick work was 
of the usual high order. Black fea- 
tured again with a home run. F. 
Kelly, for the visitors, made several 
sensational catches in right field. The 
score : 

Pastimes .... 
Pocase, 3rd B 
Turner, S. S. 
Brown, 2nd B 
Penny, 1st B. 
Hudoff, C. ... 
Southerland, C. 
F. Kelly, R. F 
Ford, C. F. . . 
H. Kelly, P. 


A.B. R. H. P.O. A. E. 
3 2 11 



2 3 

1 11 



Spring Hiix A.B. R. H. P.O. A. E. 

B. Dolson, S. S. .. 4 2 2 2 3 

Firment, C. F 5 

Pardue, P 5 1 2 7 

Nicrosi, 3rd B 5 1 2 2 

Walsh, C. F 4 1 

J. Dolson, 2nd B. . . 4 1 1 2 

Black, C 5 1 1 8 2 1 

Becker, R. F 4 2 

Riffel, 1st B 2 2 1 12 1 2 

Total 38 6 7 27 16 6 

Score by innings 123456789 

Pastimes 4 2 1 1 1 

Spring Hill 020201010 

GJhtraga (N. U 6> & **♦ & * 

Tuesday, March 23, was a red letter 
day for the Varsity. In the morning 
they had a five inning exhibition game 
with the Chicago Cubs, and in the 
evening attended the game at Monroe 
Park between Mobile Southern League 
and Chicago teams, at the invitation 
of "Pat" Moran, the Cub's catcher. 

Thanks to the good work of the 
manager and the mediation of Ed. 
Ruelbach, Chance allowed his team to 
visit the College. Through the kind- 
ness of Messrs. Mahorner, Duggan and 
Van Heuvel, the Chicagoans were con- 
veyed to Spring Hill in automobiles. 

The 'Varsity put up the best game 
it ever played against professionals, 
and showed a spirit and pluck, greater 
than is to be expected by the warmest 
enthusiast, under such circumstances. 

Chicago's first run was made on a 
series of wild heaves, and the second 
came when Needham poled a home 
run. .In the fifth and final inning the 
visitors showed Spring Hill some real 



hitting. They filled the bases, and 
then the mighty Luderus stepped to 
the plate. He chose a ball to his lik- 
ing and drove it over right field fence 
for the prettiest home run ever wit- 
nessed on Spring Hill's diamond. 

Spring Hill's run came in the fifth 
when Neeley batting for J. Dolson 
drove a single to left and was followed 
by Firment with a clean two bagger. 
Nicrosi then brought in the only run 
with a single to right. 

The famous Joe Tinker umpired and 
gave such satisfaction that the cap- 
tains of the leagues would have liked 
to sign him. All in all, the boys of 
both divisions enjoyed the game and 
the Chicago team left Spring Hill with 
the good wishes of all for another 
world's championship and with regret 
that such good fellowship could be en- 
joyed only for so short a time. The 
score : 

Chicago (N. L.).. A.B. R. H. P.O. A. E. 

F. Smith, S. S 3 1 1 2 

Miller, L. F 3 1 

Davidson, C. F 2, 1 1 

Luderus, 1st B 2 1 1 4 1 1 

H. Smith, R. F. .. 3 

Kane, 3rd B 2 1 1 1 

Needham, 2nd B. . . 2 1 2 3 1 1 

Moran (Capt.), C... 10 7 

Weaver, P 2 1 1 

Total 20 6 7 15 5 2 

Spuing Hm A.B. R. H. P.O. A. E. 

B. Dolson, S. S 2 1 2 2 

Firment, C. F 2 1 

Pardue, P 2 1 % 

Nicrosi, (Capt.) 3 B. 3 1 2 4 

Black, C 2 2 

Walsh, L. F 2 1 

Becker, R. F 2 

Riffel, 1st B 2 8 1 

J. Dolson, 2nd B. . . 10 2 3 

Neeley 1 1 * ° ° ° 

Total 19 1 4 15 12 3 

Score by innings 12 3 4 5 

Chicago 10 14 

Spring Hill 1 

The Varsity this year is the best that 
has represented Spring Hill in several 
years. The team was far above last 
year's, both in fielding and batting, 
and as for the team work, superior to 
any that ever represented the Purple. 
Under the tutelage of Coach Sentell 
the nine got a flying start and has kept 
the pace till the present writing. The 
batting averages are as follows: 

A. B. H. Average 

Moreda 2 1 .500 

Black 29 14 .483 

Nicrosi (Capt.) 33 14 .424 

Becker 36 15 .416 

Riffel 32 13 .406 

Neely 8 3 .375 

Pardue 31 11 .355 

B. Dolson 31 11 .355 

Walsh 37 13 .351 

Firment 37 12 .324 

J. Dolson 35 5 .143 

OFlinn 1 ° m 



¥• g. TxcrrEgatm, '10 

The March number of the Fleur de 
Lis contains a very interesting article 
entitled, "The Absence of the Mother's 
Influence in the Tragedies of Shakes- 
peare." King Lear and Hamlet are 
examined thoroughly from this view- 
point, and the conviction of the writer 
is our own, when he states in the clos- 
ing words of the essay— "that, as in 
Shakespeare we find tragedy results 
when the mother's influence is with- 
drawn, so in life." 

In keeping with the Easter season, 
The St. Angela's Echo opens with a 
poem entitled "Resurgam." Full of 
the spirit of faith that has robbed 
Death of its sting, it strikes the jubi- 
lant chord of joy, so proper to the feast 
of the Risen Christ. The literary fea- 
ture of the magazine is a critical study 
of the late Francis Thompson's highly 
imaginative poem, "The Hound of 

The Dial of St. Mary's, Kansas, al- 
ways noted for the tone of its fiction, 
gives us a very interesting story in the 
March issue, "Chrono Kathados." The 
essay, "The Perils of the Nation," em- 
phasizes an alarm, already sounded in 
Catholic journalism, against the in- 
roads of Divorce, Socialism and Polit- 
ical Corruption. In spirit with the 
writer, we, too, earnestly hope that our 
wise and far-seeing country will per- 
ceive and cope betimes with these 

; i 

The Mercury of Gettysburg keeps 
up its usual high standard of literary 
endeavor. In the essay, "The College 
Man and His Opportunities," we find 
much sound philosophy set forth with 
the fervor of one who understands 
what a treasure house is opened to the 
young man who is blessed with the 
opportunity of a college education. 



From far-away Honolulu comes The 
Oahuan — excellent alike in literary 
productions as well as photographic 
illustrations. While the prose contri- 
butions were many, we regret much 
that no poems were to be found. We 
hope that this issue of The Springhil- 
lian will be given the welcome accord- 
ed to our Christmas number. 

We gratefully acknowledge the fol- 
lowing Exchanges which we find in 

our sanctum: St. Mary's Sentinel; 
The Niagara Index; The Dial; The 
Mountaineer; The Angeline Quarter- 
ly; The Mercerian; The Bessie Tift 
Journal; The Marquette Journal; The 
St. Ignatius Collegian; The Xaverian; 
The Columbia ; The Academy Review ; 
The St. Mary's Chimes ; The Fordham 
Monthly; Georgetown Journal; Chats; 
Old Gold and Purple ; The Bartonian ; 
The Loretto Crescent; The Morning 
Star and Agnetian Monthly.